


Dreamed of all the Different Ways

by Emonym23, thepretender501



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 70s and 80s music references, Angst, Artist Steve, Drug Use, F/M, First Time, Frottage, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Masturbation, Original Character - Freeform, Pining, Rockstar AU, Rockstar Tony, Slow Build, Underage Drinking, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-04 22:58:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emonym23/pseuds/Emonym23, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepretender501/pseuds/thepretender501
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the summer of 1979 and Steve Rogers needs to shake off the blues and enter the world again. He somehow finds himself on the road with The Avengers, a band of misfits founded by troubled music prodigy, Tony Stark. Then life gets interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I bought the new Avengers record last night."

"Oh. How is it?"

"Um, I liked the last one better."

"That's what everyone says!"

The sound of the coffee maker drowned out the rest of the conversation and Steve returned to his own world. It was almost closing time and hopefully these would be the last two customers of the night.

"Large mochas." He placed the drinks on the counter and the young ladies smiled and thanked him. As the pair walked out of the door, someone with a familiar face walked in.

"Thor?" Steve said, squinting at his friend. He hadn't seen Thor in at least six months. He bit the inside of his cheek and swallowed hard around the tight feeling in his throat. Thor smiled, showing perfect white teeth. He was taller than Steve with a thicker build and long blond hair he usually tied in a ponytail. He wore a form-fitting Led Zeppelin shirt with acid wash jeans.

"Is that you, my friend?" Thor threw his arms up and walked toward the counter. "It's great to see you. I thought you had returned to New York."

Steve cleared his throat and picked up a towel to wipe down the counter. "I am--in-in the fall." Thor nodded, his eyes portraying deep understanding. Steve changed the subject. "How are you? How's the philosophy program?"

"It is fascinating, but I am grateful for the freedom of the summer. I have secured a marvelous job." He beamed. "In fact, that is why I am here. I need seven large lattes."

"Seven lattes? This time of night?" Steve raised his eyebrows. "What kind of job is it?"

"Ah yes, sorry, my friend. I know it is the closing hour. My job is with The Avengers." His grin broadened and he seemed to be expecting some kind of reaction.

Steve must have missed something. He gave Thor a helpless look. "The Avengers?" He thought for a second, and then the conversation he had just overheard nudged at his brain. "Wait, do you mean the band?"

Thor laughed loudly and clapped Steve on the shoulder. "Yes, of course! I nearly took offense at your lack of excitement. Say, my manager is looking for new crew members. Why don't you come on the road with us?"

Steve looked up, a little shocked. "Gee, that would be ... something." To be honest, he didn't know much about the kind of music Thor used to talk about with his eyes glued to an NME magazine. Steve grew up listening to swing music and Bing Crosby and he much preferred the calming effect it had. His best friend Bucky called him an old man for it, but he couldn't help what he liked. The coffee machine started beeping loudly, shaking him out of his thoughts. "I wish I could, but I need to save up some money here," he said, turning to pour two lattes.

"Hm." Thor rubbed his chin. "I will talk to my manager. We make a decent wage selling merchandise. Is your phone number the same? I will call you with all of the details and hopefully I can change your mind."

Steve had to admit a job with a rock band had a certain appeal, especially in comparison to working in Joe's coffee shop. But, perhaps appeal was all it was. He was sure dedicated fans like Thor were better suited to it anyway. "Thanks, but, uh, the band--" Steve stopped and wondered if he should admit to Thor that he knew nothing about The Avengers other than their name. Offending Thor didn't usually end well, so he said, "I kinda liked their last album more."

Thor chuckled. "You have been following the critics. Sadly, you are not alone in that sentiment. Tony Stark is a creative genius, but lately his songs have been mediocre. However, rock and roll loves a comeback story and they're working on a new album." He nudged Steve conspiratorially and propped the last of the seven lattes into a cup holder. "Alas, I've let the time escape from me. It was good to see you, my friend. I will give you all of the information tonight."

It was two minutes to ten, but Steve locked the door behind him anyway. The street outside was practically empty. He stared after Thor until he clambered into his Chevy and disappeared from view.

 

Tony Stark was the one he recognized as the face of the band, and Steve still knew little to nothing about him. Only that he'd been writing songs since he was a teenager and, well, he was hot. Steve's manager, Mary, walked out of her office with a clipboard. "Stop daydreaming, kid. Let's clean this place up and go home."

As promised, Thor called about an hour after Steve reached home. It turned out The Avengers were in town for the week and they would be going on a twenty city tour of the States. The pay was modest, but it was slightly more than he made at Joe's. Still, he wondered if it would be a good idea. Bucky had begged him to enjoy his summer before he left, but Bucky was thousands of miles away.

Steve told Mary about the job offer at work the next day, assuming she would discourage him and tell him to stay at the shop. He was almost offended by her insistence that he go. "You're young, Steve. Go have some fun, please." He was uncomfortably aware of how right she was; he hadn't been out for fun since he left New York. In fact, on the rare occasions when he wasn't working, he spent his time alone watching old movies.

In the end, Steve found himself checking out the venue the next day.

Members of the crew were already setting up when he arrived, unloading boxes from a plain white tour bus that was clearly in need of a wash. The bus sported the big red underlined A that was The Avengers' logo. Steve noticed that the crew's shirts, though they came in different colors, also had the logo on the front and CREW printed in large font on the back.

"Ah, Steve, you made it." Thor tossed him a pale blue shirt, clapping him on the shoulder. "Our manager, Phil, says you can start on a trial basis. See what you think." Steve nodded and Thor walked over to pick up two boxes of records. "Though you'll love it, no doubt."

Steve smiled.

When Thor walked away, a girl with striking red hair caught his eye. She wore tight black jeans, faded red arm warmers, and the sleeves of her crew tee were cut off. She was sorting through a small box of cassettes on the table and she met his gaze, inclining her head. Steve walked toward her. "Rogers, right?" she said, returning her attention to the cassettes.

He nodded before realizing she wasn't looking, then he said, "Yeah. What's your name? "

"Natasha."

"Natasha ... so what can I help with?" he asked, feeling slightly useless while everyone moved around him.

"Yes! Got it," she said suddenly, holding a tape tight in her hand with a triumphant gleam in her eye.

"What?"

"Oh, this is only the greatest B-side known to man. All of Barton's best riffs are on here and Banner's longest bass solo--Well, you know about that."

"Uh, right. Absolutely." Steve cleared his throat. Natasha raised one eyebrow and gave him a long considering look that, to be honest, was a little unnerving. Then she pressed the tape into his hand.

"Track seven. And you really better get up to speed. If Thor finds out, he may never talk to you again." Steve tightened his grip on the tape and put it in his pocket. Okay, that was frightening.

The line of fans waiting to get in slowly grew until it stretched around the block. When Steve saw them standing in an organized clump, taking pictures and talking excitedly, the energy was contagious. The last concert Steve attended was with Bucky and Peggy in New York City. They only went to see The Eagles because Bucky wanted to impress the girl he was dating, but Steve remembered it as an incredible experience. The crowd's anticipation brought him back to that night, and he ached for a moment to be back in New York where he belonged, studying what he loved. Soon he'd earn enough to go back.

They finished set up, and before long the crowd was flooding inside. Once the concert actually started things were rather uneventful. Steve talked with Thor and Natasha, and soon Thor's girlfriend Jane showed up.

"Steve!" she exclaimed, pulling him into a hug. "Hi, I haven't seen you in so long. How are y-- Are you doing okay?"

"Yeah." He remembered Jane from the local shows Thor occasionally talked him and Bucky into going to. He'd always liked her and found it funny that their friendship grew out of a mutual indifference to the rock music scene. "Good to see you, Jane."

She smiled. "I'm so glad you're here. It'll be like old times."

Thor and Jane disappeared for a while after that. Steve found Natasha in the merch tent spreading a sheet over the long table in the back, and he went to grab the other end. Natasha said, "You're gonna be running today. Are you ready?"

Steve nodded. "Just tell me what to do."

"Oh. You're a keeper."

Steve proposed that they organize the merchandise by type and then and assign a runner to each area. Natasha thanked him, looking impressed.

As they were rearranging, Steve said brightly, "You know, working here isn't too different from working at Joe's."

"Joe's?"

"Uh, it's a coffee shop down the road from here. I am, uh, _was_ working there this summer."

Natasha smirked and shook her head in response.

Steve briefly met Miles, Peter, and Gwen, the tech crew, who were all college students. They only stopped to say hello before Gwen, holding a clipboard, led the other two toward the sound booth. When Thor and Jane returned, Natasha tugged at Steve's arm and pulled him away from the booth.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Don't you want to see the band?" she said, her hand resting on his forearm. Steve nodded.

He followed Natasha and they were backstage before he knew it. The music reverberated through his body. It was so loud he was sure he'd still feel his ears ringing days from now. Natasha pulled back the curtain and waved him over. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the lights, but when things came into focus he realized he was looking at the stage. The Avengers were almost close enough to touch. Despite the blatant difference between this and what Steve normally listened to, as the heavy guitar riffs and the gravely melodic tone of Stark's voice surrounded them, it was officially better than The Eagles.

He'd read up on the members so he knew that Clint Barton played lead guitar, and there he was at the front of the stage, one foot resting on an amp, looking up with a wry half smile. He mastered one of the riffs Natasha spoke so fondly of while the audience roared with approval. James Rhodes rocked the drums with an unnatural sense of rhythm and timing, twisting his sticks in the air at every interval. Bruce Banner looked the most focused, his eyes hardly leaving the bass in front of him.

"Okay, this is less like Joe's," Steve said loudly. Natasha shook in silent laughter next to him.

Then, of course, there was Tony Stark, who commanded the stage with an energy Steve couldn't explain. It was difficult to keep his eyes off Tony, so Steve didn't bother trying. He was close enough to see the sweat running down Tony's face and soaking his t-shirt straight through, and Tony didn't seem the least bit concerned. He slid his hands up and down the microphone stand he held between his legs and Steve swallowed. He felt himself shiver as Tony ground forward against the stand. He wore tight black pants.

Steve shifted on his feet, watching the muscles work in Tony's back. Steve's skin tingled and he felt dazed, his mind going to bad places.

Of course, in that moment Tony glanced in his direction. Then he did a double-take and looked directly at Steve, licking his lips. Steve took a sharp breath in, and several more breaths that still didn't seem like enough to cut it. Just like that, he felt like a skinny kid with asthma again. Steve waved and Tony grinned. Steve looked away quickly, feeling like an idiot. His face burned. Why did he wave? It wasn't as if Tony knew who he was. When he had the nerve to look back at the stage, he was relieved to see Tony facing the audience again.

Natasha nudged him and it was only then that he remembered her presence. He glanced at her and realized she was smiling. "Come on. We better get back, they'll be ending the set soon."

Maybe it was the thrill of hearing it live, but Steve now had the urge to listen to that B-side and the album he had stowed away.

 

*

 

"So what do you think, Steve? Will you venture on tour with us?" Thor asked. He and Jane wore matching grins. They had just finished packing the last of the merch and locking it into the case for the following evening. "Granted, it's not truly fair to ask before you've been to the after party." He rubbed his chin seriously.

Steve held a hand out, pretending to weigh the options. "Hey, who needs out-of-this-world performances and after parties when you can be at home reading a book?"

Thor narrowed his eyes.

"I'm just--nevermind. I'll absolutely come on tour." Steve grinned.

"Ah, wonderful!"

"A good book does sound nice though," Jane whispered, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

"Preferably not one about physics," Steve teased.

Jane laughed and threw her arms around his waist. "I'm so glad you're staying."

They met up with T'challa, who was in charge of the tech crew, on the way and they all talked nonstop about the tour, obviously intending to bring Steve up to speed. "It's about two or three guys to a room and the girls in another when we stay in hotels, but we mix it up. Then there are the groupies and the diehards," said Natasha.

"The groupies are mostly chicks the band is interested in ... well, you know. They do not last long," T'challa said.

Natasha smirked and continued, "The diehards are basically part of the whole shebang. They follow the band to every show and every venue and they know all the words and the meanings behind them and the hidden meanings also. They attend the shows and after parties for free, and the band and security usually let them hang backstage as they please."

"Uh--how long have you been, uh, doing this?" Steve gestured vaguely around.

"Natasha has been with the band for many tours. She has shown me the ropes. I'd say she's queen of the diehards." Thor grinned.

"Oh yeah, not my first rodeo," Natasha looked thoughtful, "but after a while you forget it's a job and these people become more like family. A highly dysfunctional family, but family all the same." She winked at Steve, and then walked to the door. T'Challa, Thor, and Jane followed, Thor's arm wrapped around Jane's shoulder.

Steve smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets, his fingers catching on the tape there. He tapped it gently and followed them out of the venue.

 

The penthouse suite was crowded, and it was difficult to maneuver without bumping into someone. Steve could hear Bucky's voice in his head, teasing him every time he'd forgone a party because he had an assignment deadline. He'd die laughing if he knew where Steve was now.

Natasha grabbed his arm and held on as they moved through a crowd that was cheering loudly while two guys stood on chairs and chugged bottles of beer. They stopped at a doorway that led to the kitchen, and the strong smell of smoke hit his nostrils. A girl with bleached blond hair in a teased side ponytail and an obscene amount of makeup on stood by the door with a cigarette in hand. She smiled at him. "Hi, cutie."

Steve blushed. "Ma'am." He nodded, jerkily, with no idea what else he should say. The girl laughed and blew out another puff of smoke.

"Groupie," Natasha whispered in his ear before nudging him forward again. Steve smiled, and then he realized that Clint Barton was standing in front of him. It was an odd sight, to see someone who had just been larger than life on a stage standing in a kitchen in a plain white undershirt, ripped jeans, and socks.

"Tasha," Clint said. She took the beer he handed her. Then Steve felt someone's arm wrap around his shoulder.

"I was looking for you." Tony smiled at Steve then turned to Natasha, his other arm resting on her shoulder. "Is this your new boyfriend, Natasha?"

"Better not be." Clint looked up like he hadn't meant to say that out loud. "No offense, man," he added, "but she's taken and you just don't seem like her type."

"I don't have a type." She gave Clint a coy look that said otherwise, and Steve figured there was something going on between them.

"This is Steve Rogers. He's the new guy on crew. Thor's friend from high school."

Steve looked down at his hands, preoccupied by the sudden heat of Tony's skin on his. He smelled like sweat and aftershave, and Steve tried not to think about waving at him like a goof from backstage. He took comfort in the fact that Tony probably didn't even recognize him.

"Hello, Steve Rogers," Tony exclaimed, and his arm was solely around Steve now. Natasha had snaked away and was leaning against the kitchen counter next to Clint. A fierce warmth spread through Steve and he hoped his face wasn't as red as it felt. "Leave it to Thor to bring in the blonds. What'd you think of the show, Steve?"

"Uh ... you were amazing--" He looked up from where he'd been captivated by the colorful tattoos that covered Tony's arm. "I mean, amazing. The show was amazing." Steve's heart pounded and his cheeks burned. Tony's smile wasn't helping. Hoping Tony didn't notice his skin burning red, he added, "You guys do that every night?"

"Yep, well, not every night, but most nights. Did you get to check out any of the other bands at the festival?"

Steve shook his head. "You have a few fans that wanted keepsakes, actually."

"Oh, I already forgot you're working for us." Tony squinted and pressed his forehead against Steve's shoulder. "How old are you?" he said, looking up to meet Steve's eyes again.

"I'm 20," Steve said, looking away. _Breathe, Rogers, relax_. He hadn't felt so aware of himself in a long time. It was as if Tony demanded his presence the same way he'd demanded the audience's attention on stage.

"Ah, 20. I remember 20. First time I met Mick Jagger. I think I was about as bright-eyed as you. And they're stunning by the way, your eyes, even if you don't let me see them. Are you thirsty? Do you want a drink? We have non-alcoholic stuff."

Steve could barely keep up, overwhelmed by the blood rushing to his head. "Thanks." He looked at Tony. "Actually, can I have a beer?" He didn't normally drink, but for some reason he wanted to break the impression Tony seemed to have that he was young and naive.

"You got it." Tony smiled. He walked to the counter, lifted a Guinness from the cooler and handed it to Steve.

Steve took Tony in: wavy brown hair overdue for a haircut, a suit jacket over a Black Sabbath t-shirt, and straight-leg jeans rolled up at the bottom. He imagined shading in those lively brown eyes, wondering if he could capture that energy on paper. "Cheers," Steve said, lifting his drink up. _Did they even do cheers? That was lame._

"Cheers." Tony clinked their bottles together, then drank with no indication that he found it weird at all.

An AC/DC song that Steve had actually heard before started to play and he felt a strange calm wash over him. It was as if his brain was starting to accept that this was real. Either that, or it was all a dream so it didn't matter. He bit the inside of his cheek and the pain was sharp and sudden.

Thor ambled in with Jane running to catch up behind him. "Friends! Let's dance!"

Thor's energy seemed to spread to all of them as they cleared out into the main room where the music was louder and "Rock n Roll Damnation" blasted out of the stereo. A group of people had taken to dancing on top of the queen-sized hotel beds and it felt just like a scene out of a movie. Tony held his hand out to Steve, and Steve stared at it for a moment. Nothing made sense, and he couldn't be that much of a lightweight.

He waved his hand apologetically and leaned against the wall. He wasn't a great dancer, and it was probably best for everyone here that he not attempt it. Tony jutted his lower lip out, but two girls appeared as if on cue to steal his attention. As Steve leaned against the wall, he had the sense of something significant fading fast.

 

*


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you have a good time?” Tony lightly brushed one of Steve’s biceps and he tensed instantly, flexing the muscle and, god damn, Tony wanted to climb him and take him for a ride.

The night continued on in the same way. People showed up and others left, but the music remained. At around one in the morning, Clint sat on a recliner with an acoustic guitar, strumming lightly and matching chords with some of the songs on the radio. Tony hadn't seen Bruce since earlier in the evening, and knowing him he was probably fast asleep.

Rhodey walked into the living room shirtless and sat next to Tony on the couch. He stretched his legs across Tony's lap. Tony took a sip from the bottle of bourbon on the end table and handed it to him.

"Good show," Rhodey said, taking a sip from the bottle.

Tony raised an eyebrow. Rhodey never said it unless he meant it, and he hadn't said it in a long time. "Thanks?"

"I'm serious. I mean, you started off going through the motions, but about a quarter of the way into the second set you seemed like you were genuinely enjoying yourself."

Tony smiled to himself and took another drink. Then he spotted Steve on his way to the kitchen. "Actually, I was showing off," Tony said with a smirk. He pushed Rhodey's legs off and stood up. He didn't consciously remember doing anything differently until Natasha showed up with tall, blond, and all-American Steve Rogers. Not typical of the people who came backstage at their shows.

"Hi, gorgeous." Tony stopped Steve in the hallway.

"Uh, me? No, I'm-- you're--hi." Steve gave him a small smile and gazed downwards. It was dark in the hallway, but Tony knew he was blushing. He'd seen it so many times, not because he was particularly handsome or charming, but because he was "famous."

"Did you have a good time?" Tony lightly brushed one of Steve's biceps, and he tensed instantly, flexing the muscle and, god damn, Tony wanted to climb him and take him for a ride.

"It was--yeah. I did." Steve laughed softly.

"Good," Tony said, sliding his hand up Steve's arm now, feeling nothing but hard muscle under skin. "You have a girlfriend back at home?"

Steve shook his head, still looking towards the floor. He took a step back and was met by the wall.

"A boyfriend?" Tony asked.

"I--no," Steve stammered.

"You can stay here tonight if you want. My bed is big and comfortable."

Steve looked at him then, his eyes wide, and even in the dark they were brilliant.

"Don't make me beg," Tony whispered. He stepped closer and slid his hands up Steve's crew t-shirt, and there was nothing but heat and hard abs. Steve's breath caught and he took hold of Tony's hands and removed them.

"I should go," Steve said, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

Tony didn't realize how turned on he was until Steve walked away. He leaned against the wall, feeling incredibly hot. He wanted to get laid. Wanted to feel Steve's body on top of him like a warm and heavy blanket. And the vibe had felt right, it felt like Steve was attracted to him but maybe he'd misread the signs. Maybe Steve wasn't even into men. Tony was persuasive, but there was nothing he could do if Steve was straight. He was certain of that; he'd been after Rhodey for years.

Feeling deflated, he walked back into the common room. "Rhodey, honey, I need sympathy sex. Will you fuck me?" He nudged Rhodey over and slumped onto the couch.

Rhodey narrowed his eyes. "No, and why the hell do you need sympathy sex? Don't you get enough non-sympathy sex?"

"Ugh, fine, at least give me a drink. I was rejected by the hottest person in the room."

Rhodey handed Tony the bottle of bourbon and Clint snorted. "This is about the blond guy, right? Thor's friend; looks like he's been punching one too many bags at the gym."

"Steve Rogers, yeah." Tony sighed. "He's straight, and somehow I'm not surprised. I think I scared him away."

"I knew it!" Clint said. "Tasha owes me 50 bucks. She said you would wait a week to try something. I said you wouldn't last the night."

Tony rolled his eyes and looked at Rhodey. He was squinting at Tony.

"Who is this guy?" Rhodey asked.

"Tall, built guy, a little smaller than Thor. Looks like he plays football or wrestling or some athletic shit," Clint said.

"Oh god, him?" Rhodey sat up. "Tony, this is high school all over again. I'm glad it didn't work out. Keep your dick away from the crew."

"Yeah, before you get another one pregnant and she threatens to sue the band for child support too," Clint added.

"Hey, that's not fair. She wasn't really pregnant," Tony snapped.

"Actually, you're lucky she didn't sue for sexual harassment," Rhodey pointed out. "And you better apologize to Steve before he does."

Tony swallowed more alcohol. "I don't need you guys to lecture me. I'm a grown up."

"Sometimes," Rhodey muttered, and Clint huffed out a laugh.

 

*

 

They left on tour the next day. Natasha had given Steve more cassettes after he played out the first one. By the time they arrived in San Francisco he'd gone through two albums. He wondered how someone who wrote such powerful and meaningful words could be as shallow as Tony Stark.

As soon as they reached the hotel, Steve saw Tony heading toward him in the lobby. He tensed up thinking of the previous night. Steve would have to be in deep denial not to admit that he was attracted to Tony. But attraction or not, he wanted his first sexual experience to be meaningful, not with someone who only knew his name until it was over. He turned, walking to the elevator.

"Wait, Steve," Tony said.

Steve turned around, crossing his arms. "I'm not interested, Tony, alright? I'm not a groupie."

Tony raised his hands defensively. "I was just going to apologize. I shouldn't have been so-- so presumptuous." He gave Steve a sheepish grin. "Can I make it up to you somehow?"

"Oh..." Steve didn't know what to say for a moment, and he glanced to the side, feeling himself start to flush. "Don't worry about it. I accept your apology. I won't keep you. I'm sure you're busy."

Tony shoved his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, okay, sure. But if you change your mind-- I really am sorry. Don't quit on account of me."

"I'm not--I mean I won't." Steve nodded, looking Tony in the eye. "Thanks. Is it some sort of hazing for the new guy?"

Tony laughed. "Only for guys as hot as you. No offense, I'm not hitting on you. Please don't call me on sexual harassment policy and all that stuff."

Steve stared at him. How was he supposed to respond to any of this? He urged his brain to work, but nothing came to mind.

"Okay, sorry. I'm sorry. The other guys are really good guys. I'll just-- back off. And if you ever want to-- I don't know-- start over--"

There was a camera flash, and then--as if out of nowhere--a group of teenaged girls appeared and started screaming Tony's name. Then the whole lobby erupted into chaos as the girls and several others rushed forward to meet him. Steve was pushed backwards in the fray, and Tony visibly tensed. Steve heard the ding of the elevator behind him and turned as the door opened. "Hey everyone, listen up," Steve heard himself saying loudly. "I'm Mr. Stark's bodyguard. He'll be signing autographs at the show tonight. Not now."

Tony looked at him and Steve gestured toward the open elevator. The girls whined and groaned, but the most surprising thing they did was listen. Tony escaped the crowd and grinned at Steve as he made his way to the elevator. "Thanks," he said, once the doors were closed. "I mean, I love them, I do. It's just..." he trailed off.

"You don't have to justify wanting your privacy sometimes." Steve caught his eye, feeling a sudden rush of sympathy. "You're only human."

Tony smiled and shook his head like he was laughing at some private joke. "Thanks," he said again.

The elevator stopped on the fifth floor and they both walked out, heading in opposite directions. "Well, I guess I'll see you at the show tonight. Unless you need a security guard between now and then."

"I'm seriously going to ask Pepper if we can put you on payroll." Tony grinned and  rubbed his shoulder idly. "Hey, do you like to eat? What am I talking about, everyone likes to eat. If you're in the mood to come by whenever we're not on the road, I could make you something. Something Italian. My mom was Italian; it's all I know. Do you like not very good Italian food?"

Steve smiled. "I think I can handle that."

 

*


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How often had Tony been intimate with people and known nothing about them? And up until five minutes ago he'd been okay with it.

Tony kept his word and in Los Angeles he invited Steve over and made him lasagna. His intentions were far from pure. He knew he couldn't have Steve, but he could still have the pleasant view of Steve's ass when he bent down to get a pan from the cupboard. One day he'd make friends with someone who was devilishly handsome and _not_ off limits.

The air conditioner in the suite was malfunctioning, so they sat on the floor in front of the open window. The breeze off the ocean was actually pretty soothing when it came through.

"You're not as bad a cook as you think you are," Steve said, finishing up the last bite.

Tony grinned. "You don't need to flatter me. I've already got a massive ego."

"I'm serious. It wasn't bad," Steve said earnestly.

"Yeah, thanks to you. Actually, I’m surprised it was edible. You've got to ask Rhodey about the soup incident of '76." Tony leaned back against the wall as Steve chuckled. It was a nice sound considering it took awhile to get him to relax. The two glasses of wine probably helped.

Steve seemed straight-laced and shy, so Tony hadn't expected his deadpan humor. Tony found himself laughing unexpectedly, sometimes uncertain whether Steve was joking or not. Steve was really good at it though. He kept a straight face regardless.

"I, um-- Can I be honest with you?" Steve asked.

"Please do."

Steve let out a breath. "I've only just started listening to your albums."

"Oh yeah?" Tony said lightly. He found it a little amusing that Steve seemed to consider this major secret keeping material. "What do you think?"

"You're really good. I've had the first album on repeat the whole ride to L.A. Natasha hasn't loaned me the third one yet but--"

Tony winced. "Don't waste your time on the third one. It's shit. At least, that's what the critics say."

Steve went silent. Tony thought of Christine Everhart's scathing review in The Daily Bugle. "Superficial and bland" is how she referred to it. Still, he felt bad spoiling it for Steve. It wasn't his right to tell Steve what to listen to. He couldn't judge what Steve considered good music anymore than critics could.

"Do you think it's bad?" Steve's voice broke into his thoughts.

Tony shrugged. "I don't know actually. I'm sorry I said that. Listen to what you want. Some of my favorite tracks on the Stones' album were critically panned, but who gives a shit, right? What else do you like to listen to?"

Steve talked about swing bands his mother liked, music from the 30s, 40s and 50s. The most recent group he mentioned was the Beatles. "I remember being about six years old and me and my mom dancing around the kitchen to 'All my Loving.'"

"Please tell me you know all the words and harmonies with embarrassing accuracy."

Steve nodded with a smile and Tony laughed.

Steve admitted he'd never really been interested enough in rock and roll music to seek it out. "If I hear it on the radio and it's a nice sound, I'll turn it up. The local radio station plays some good tunes."

Out of everything Steve said, that was probably the most offensive. "Okay, no. That is absolutely unacceptable," Tony said. He unzipped his suitcase and they spent the next couple of hours listening to some of his favorite songs. Maybe part of it was that Steve seemed genuinely interested, but Tony couldn't help himself. He listed everything he liked about the songs. Every major scale and minor chord, drum solo and acoustic guitar whine, every blaring chorus and unsung word.

The light came on and Tony lifted his head.

"Oh, I didn't know you weren't alone--" Rhodey started.

Tony had somehow ended up with his head on the ground and his feet against the wall. Steve had his back against the wall with his legs spread out. There was an empty wine bottle and a stack of cassette tapes between them.

"Hi, honey bear," Tony cooed. "Did you come over to cuddle?"

Rhodey rolled his eyes and looked at Steve. "You Steve Rogers?"

Steve nodded.

"Thor is looking for you. He said something about you never making it to the hotel room."

"Oh geez," Steve said. He got to his feet remarkably quick and graceful for a man of his stature. "I better go, I'm-- thank you, Tony, for dinner and this." He grabbed his bag and hurried out of the room.

Tony stood up and glanced at Rhodey. "He said 'Oh geez.' Rhodey, he listens to Billie Holiday and Frank Sinatra and he said 'Oh geez.' If I were a woman, I'd have his fucking children."

"What were you doing, Tony?" Rhodey asked.

"Talking." Tony shrugged. "Torturing myself."

"Mhmm."

 

*

 

The show the next day went off without a hitch and soon they were back on the bus, headed to Oregon. Clint and Rhodey had met a few girls who'd managed a free ride to Portland--Shannon, Cindy, and Chanel. They were okay to look at, and Tony looked, which prompted Shannon to come keep him company. She said she was a gymnast and she could show Tony a few moves, and who was he to disagree. When she led him to the back of the bus, Clint whooped and Rhodey grinned. Bruce wore sunglasses, but if his eyes were visible Tony knew they'd be crinkled with amusement.

Tony couldn't complain. She had some very nice moves, and yeah, maybe his stomach felt a little hollow afterwards and he wasn't drunk enough to fall asleep with her, but that was okay. He got up quietly so as not to disturb her, dressed and went to the front of the bus. Rhodey and Chanel were in one seat talking quietly. Clint was making out with Cindy. Tony sat down next to Bruce and lit up a joint. It was only after the first inhalation, when his hands steadied, that he realized he'd been shaking at all.

"Everything okay with you, big guy?" Tony asked Bruce.

Bruce raised his sunglasses. "I'm okay. Are you?"

Tony nodded, knowing he was lying. How often had he been intimate with people and known nothing about them? And up until five minutes ago he'd been okay with it.

He thought about the music he'd shared with Steve the previous night. There were more songs he wanted to tell Steve about, and he rattled them off in his mind as the weed calmed his nerves.

 

*

 

Steve couldn't remember when it started to get so comfortable between him and Tony. He was thankful they'd started over, because hanging out with Tony was actually really easy. It became a thing when they had downtime that they would meet up to eat or sometimes just so Tony could educate Steve on the importance of classic rock. Tony's words. This education consisted of a lot of listening to records and stories about band breakups.

They sat in the booth of an empty roadside cafe one night and Steve mentioned that he had listened to an Avengers bonus track on an extended play Natasha lent him.

Tony smiled. "I remember the night I wrote that ... it was raining." He ran a hand through his hair and looked at the glass of wine he was holding. "I was hiding out in my parents basement. Not that someone was looking for me or anything. And the melody kept replaying in my head." He tapped the glass in his hand and looked thoughtful. "That's the only one that never changed when the band recorded it. Not sure why. I don't think anyone really knew what to do with it."

Steve watched him and felt like he'd been given a rare privilege. He had the sense that he was the only one that Tony had told that to, which was probably an entirely untrue assumption, but it was written in Tony's body language. His shifting eyes betrayed insecurity and his hand shook a little. Nothing about it was a show, and Steve realized he liked this Tony very much. "I think it's just fine as it is," Steve said, and Tony smiled.

Steve started telling Tony every time he listened to one of The Avengers tracks and he was awarded a new story for each one. Some songs Tony was vague about, but for others he went into detail, playing it up the same way he played to the audience at night. At that point, Steve would roll his eyes. No matter what, Tony had a way of making Steve feel like he was the only person in existence.

The others started to embrace Steve as well. Clint showed him the main recording studio when they reached Los Angeles. "And this is where I'll be working on my solo album. Okay, not really, but I do like to come in here and lay down tracks on my own occasionally."

"Well, if I could play like you I'd do the same."

Clint laughed. "Tasha was right. I like you. Maybe I'll always steal you away when Tony's at interviews."

Steve looked toward the door, unsure what to say to that. He was saved from responding by the sudden appearance of Nick Fury. It was the first time Steve saw him in person, though Thor did mention that he was the head of the SHIELD record label.

Fury stood in the doorway and looked suspiciously from Clint to Steve. "Recruiting new members?"

"No, sir. I'm Steve Rogers. I recently joined the merch team."

"I knew that. Because I know someone would have informed me if the band had a change in lineup." He looked at Clint. "Barton, I've heard that the band's performances have improved in the last couple weeks."

Clint smiled. "Actually, it is going better than expected--"

"And _I_ expectthat you won't be resting on that confidence. We still need to make up for the losses on album sales."

Clint pulled a face. "I'll let you know when the next reviews roll in. Or scratch that, I'm sure _you_ _'_ _ll_ let us know."

Fury raised an eyebrow and nodded shortly. Without a change of expression, he turned and continued down the hallway.

Clint stared after him, shaking his head. "He's a total teddy bear inside ... deep deep _deep_ down inside."

They met Rhodey and Bruce on the way out. "Man, what are you doing here?" Rhodey said.

"Just showing the new guy around." Clint shrugged.

Rhodey squinted at him. "Well, you better get back inside. There's a mob coming this way."

"Fans?" Steve asked, flashing back to the encounter with Tony at the elevator.

"No, much worse," said Bruce. "Paparazzi." He turned to Rhodey. "Just thought I'd point out that you alerted them. I had on my sunglasses."

"What is with your idea that sunglasses are like an invisibility cloak?" Rhodey gestured toward him. "They're not. In fact, they're more like your trademark." Steve and Clint laughed.

Bruce smiled too. "Your opinion. Come on, man, let's get you inside before they--"

Just then a small group of enthusiastic reporters with cameras rounded the corner. They rushed forward and the array of flashes blinded Steve. He stared in awe for several moments before realizing that Bruce and Rhodey had disappeared inside. Clint tugged at his arm, pulling him toward the car.

Once they were safely inside and the driver pulled off, Steve said, "That has got to be exhausting."

Clint grinned. "Hell yeah, but it keeps things exciting."

 

*

 

Late one night, during the drive from Tempe to Denver, Steve had a strong urge to draw that he hadn't felt since he left New York. He took out his sketchbook, curled up in the bunk bed that wasn't quite big enough for him, and listened to the Avengers self titled first album for the umpteenth time. He started off just sketching Tony, and for some reason the image stuck in his head of the sixteen-year-old kid lying on the floor, writing in his parents' basement. Then he made another sketch and it was of the whole band standing onstage, from the point of view he saw them, backs turned facing out into the audience. He flipped the page and drew Tony, as he was when they sat in his hotel room until all hours of the night, gesturing dramatically. Steve didn't like how it turned out so he scrapped it and started over, simply drawing Tony sitting on the floor across from him, drumming his fingers on his thigh along with the beat of a song. It still wasn't quite right, but it was better.

Steve heard a knock at the door and quickly closed his sketchbook. "Come in," he called.

"Hi," Peter Parker crept into the room. He claimed he was 18, but Steve didn't believe he was a day over 15. Since first meeting him, Steve got the feeling Peter saw him as something of an older brother and he couldn't help playing the role. Peter was one of the band's resident diehard fans turned part-time crew member. He had an incredible memory for all Avengers related facts and he also had some wicked guitar skills. Steve had kind of made it his mission to keep Peter away from the alcohol and easy access to other drugs, not that Peter seemed too interested in that stuff anyways, but every once in awhile he'd catch Peter with a drink in his hand and he'd make some sly excuse to get ahold of it.

"Are you busy?" Peter asked.

Steve slid the sketchbook under his pillow. "Nope. What's up?"

"I think I just lost my virginity."

"Huh?" Steve raised his eyebrows, and Peter's face reddened and he rubbed the back of his neck sitting on the bed.

"Yeah, you know Gwen?"

"Yeah, you said you might be in love with her."

"I'm definitely, _definitely_ in love with her." Peter's eyes shone with eagerness.

Steve hesitated. Gwen was 18 too, but Steve believed she was telling the truth about her age when she talked about studying astronomy at USC. But Gwen was sweet, and Steve supposed that if Peter was going to fall in love for the first time Gwen was a good choice. "So you had sex with her?"

"Kind of?"

Steve couldn't help but grin at that. "What does 'kind of' mean?"

"We were sleeping in the same bed and she kind of sucked me off."

"Kind of?" Steve teased. "Did you like it?"

"Yeah." Peter blushed deeper and looked down, webbing his fingers over the mattress. "I think I love her. What do I do?"

Steve nudged him gently on the arm. "Tell her."

 

*


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve wondered why Tony didn't just act like himself. He couldn't imagine anyone calling Tony mediocre if they could see how much he genuinely enjoyed his craft.

 

On the way from San Antonio to Dallas it was Bruce's birthday. He'd insisted he didn't want to make a big deal out of it, which Tony translated to "Let's have a party." So they pulled into a rest stop and everyone crowded onto the band's bus. Thor and Jane even managed to locate a cake shop on the way over.

Bruce shook his head and clasped his hands together, standing in front of their small table. "Uh, wow, this really wasn't necessary, but thank you guys." He smiled, and Steve thought it meant more to him than he let on.

Natasha walked up to Bruce, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him. "Happy birthday." She smiled.

Steve blinked, as if his eyes couldn't register what he'd just seen. Wait, had that really just happened? He glanced quickly around, but no one else looked surprised. "What...?" he heard himself say out loud. Luckily, it wasn't actually loud enough for anybody to hear. No one except for Tony who stood next to him, leaning against the counter. He looked at Steve and gave him a crooked smile.

"Alright, kids." Tony clapped his hands together. "Come on. I don't mean to interrupt the moment, but you're traumatizing poor Steve. That's supposed to be my job. So let's cut the cake. Eat. Drink. Be merry?" Steve flushed and stared at the wood paneling on the wall behind Bruce's head.

"Alright, Tony, keep your pants on," Bruce said, slicing into the cake with a butter knife. Peter's camera flashed and he gave a thumbs up.

"Thanks for reminding him," said Clint from his seat on the couch. He pulled determinedly on the cap of a champagne bottle. Thor nudged him and reached his hand out for the bottle. Clint handed it over, shrugging.

"Ha. Very funny, Barton. And coming from you, it's even funnier. Exactly how many girls did you bring back to the hotel in San Antonio?" Tony pretended to count on his fingers.

Clint glared. "I'm only trying to live up to your record."

Rhodey rolled his eyes. "Anyway. Happy birthday, Bruce," he said loudly.

The champagne opened with a loud pop and Thor lifted the bottle in the air. "To the hope that today is as joyous as the day of your birth."

Gwen put on an Earth, Wind & Fire record and started an informal karaoke competition. Thor and a tone deaf Jane singing along to "Shining Star" was the highlight. Though T'challa's rendition of "Loving You" by Minnie Ripperton was a close second.

"Well, you have to give them points for passion," Tony whispered in Steve's ear, and he did have a point. Jane's passionate dance moves had almost knocked over several glasses and a table lamp, and he was pretty sure T'challa nearly reached the high note, twice.

Steve had the urge to draw again, so he tried to take snapshots in his mind. He knew details would slip away from now until he got his hands on his sketchbook though. Sometime later, he sat next to Clint and Rhodey on the couch and they shared a box of pizza. "So what made you guys start, uh The Avengers?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, how _did_ we do that?" Clint turned to Rhodey, placing one hand under his chin.

"I don't know, it was more like Tony's thing. We were both big into music, but my plan was always to move to DC and work in government. Then Tony wrote a song and said he didn't want to give it to another band. Suddenly he was obsessed with the idea of starting our own group. It took a couple months of him talking about it nonstop for me to believe he was serious. He even recruited Bruce and this guy."

"And The Avengers were born," Clint said, holding up a slice of pizza with reverence.

"That's always my favorite story in the interviews," said Miles. He was quiet, and Steve hadn't noticed him come over and plop down on the beanbag chair in the corner. Steve liked Miles because of his thoughtful and serious demeanor. He felt a kinship in the way both their personalities didn't seem to fit this strange lifestyle. Especially since Miles was the newest member of the tech crew recruited by Gwen from school. At that moment, Gwen walked over as well.

"Starving," she almost growled, taking the last slice and biting into it. "And by the way, we just ordered you a new amp." She looked at Clint and Rhodey. "The other one was shredded beyond repair. "Steve stood and offered Gwen his seat. He was feeling a bit lightheaded from the champagne.

Steve wandered into the band's sleeping area where it was much quieter. He sat down on the bottom bunk and stared at the Grateful Dead poster on the opposite wall. A calendar with dates crossed out hung next to it, and Steve couldn't believe the tour was halfway over. Had a month really gone by so fast? “You’re in my bed. That's really unfair." Steve almost jumped at the sound of Tony's voice. He was just standing there leaning against the bedpost and he looked drunk.

Steve stood up abruptly. "Sorry, Tony. I'll leave. Sorry, you probably want to ... sleep."

"No, no, no," Tony said, pushing lightly on Steve's chest. "You stay right there." And Steve didn't move. He just stood there because Tony was looking at him like no one had ever looked at him before. His eyes were dark and intense and it made Steve want to look away, but he couldn't. Tony's hand was still on his chest so he could probably feel his heart pounding.

"Uh, right." Tony removed his hand and placed it on the back of his head. "You can stay if you want, is what I meant. I don't mind. Can I join you?"

Steve took a deep breath out and rubbed his cheek self-consciously. "I--yeah, of course." He moved over to give Tony space and sat down again.

"Hey, so I'm curious, what'd you do before Thor brought you to us? You strike me as one of those jocks I used to go down on in high school-- and I'm saying too much, aren't I? I'm hot. Are you hot? I'm gonna open this window." He struggled with the latch.

"Uh, you're drunk," said Steve, glancing at the window then at Tony. "I'll get you some water." He didn't mention that the air conditioner was on.

"No, stay, please. I'm just sleepy. Not drunk." He leaned back on his elbows and gazed at Steve in that same intense way as before. "Did you play football?"

"Yeah," Steve said after a moment, feeling like he was admitting to a much worse offense. "I played pretty much every sport there was in high school."

Tony chewed his bottom lip. "I bet you did. Your mom must be so proud of you."

Steve winced. "It's not like what you think. I mean, she was proud of me, but she was mostly happy I wasn't getting beat up everyday anymore." He hadn't meant to say that. Maybe he'd had more champagne than he thought.

Tony sat up. "Beat up? You? Are you serious?"

Steve closed his eyes and shook his head. "Never mind. Forget I said anything. You don't want to hear about it."

"Tell me. I'm not going to tell anyone else, trust me."

Steve glanced at Tony and sighed. He had told Steve so much about himself that it was only fair. "I wasn't always like this." He shifted his weight and traced a pointless circle on the white bed sheet. "Before high school I was a scrawny kid with asthma and just--well, I had a tendency to write checks my body couldn't cash. Or, as Bucky said, I was a stubborn idiot." He laughed, rubbing the side of his arm.

"Wow, I can't imagine. So how'd you-- I mean, puberty must've been really good to you?" Tony touched Steve's thigh but removed his hand just as quickly.

Steve laughed nervously. He told Tony about growing out of his asthma. From the time he was cleared to play sports, he joined every team he could. He ate a lot and worked hard and puberty helped with the rest.

They sat with their backs against the wall while Steve talked and traced patterns of images he wanted to remember on the sheets with his fingertips.

"If I had someone like you, I wouldn't need any of this," Tony said drunkenly or sleepily, Steve couldn't tell anymore. Tony was fast asleep moments later. Steve tilted his head back against the wall and sighed. He wanted--he wasn't quite sure what he wanted actually. He looked over at Tony, and he wished he could trace his features or at the very least commit them to memory to trace later. Being with Tony felt dangerous, like the very top of the biggest coaster at Coney Island. Steve longed to capture Tony as he was. He _would_. He just had to ... he'd sleep first.

"Hey, uh, guys, we're here," Steve heard the voice somewhere far away in his mind. Then he felt someone move next to him. He opened his eyes and Tony was lying on his shoulder. Bruce stood in front of them. "Sorry, we're here. I figured you might want to go inside the hotel. It'll be a little more comfortable." Steve blinked and stretched his arms out and Tony moved again, groaning and squeezing his eyes shut.

"You and Natasha?" Steve looked at Bruce, scratching the back of his head.

Bruce smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, me and Natasha."

"Are in love," Tony added as he stretched.

Bruce looked at his hands and smiled, but he didn't deny it.

"Okay." Steve nodded, running a hand through his hair.

They walked sleepily to their hotel rooms. When Steve woke the next morning he was so sure it was a dream he looked around twice before he remembered why Tony wasn't lying next to him.

 

*

 

There was a photo shoot in Dallas and The Avengers were guests on a local news talk show.

Natasha brought Steve to watch the interview when Steve told her he'd never been inside a news studio before. "They give us food and coupons for local restaurants. Personally, it's probably my favorite part about dealing with the press," Natasha said. Then she sidled up next to another redheaded woman in a suit who looked to be in charge of everything.

"Hey Pep, this is Steve Rogers. He's getting his first taste of morning talk show life."

"Oh?" She turned to Steve.

"Steve, this is Pepper Potts. She's one of the band's press and event managers. She makes sure their image works, plans events, secures venues, makes scandals disappear, and totally maintains the band's public image. She pretty much does everything."

"Nice to meet you," Steve said anxiously. He'd heard Tony mention her before, but with a resume like that, Pepper seemed more than a little intimidating. She smiled at him, and the warmth in her eyes all but eased Steve's anxiety.

"Likewise. Why don't you guys help yourselves to some food? The show's going live in five minutes, and I've got to go over last minute prep with the guys."

"Sure thing, lady," Natasha said with a grin.

"Thank you," Steve added unnecessarily.

“My favorite part,” Natasha said conspiratorially as they helped themselves to a hot bar heaped with fresh eggs and potatoes.

It was weird watching Tony in the interview. He was talking about what he loved, music, but he was putting on a performance. After spending countless hours hearing Tony talk in passionate unselfconscious detail about scales and harmonies and the meaning he saw in words, the whole interview rang false. Steve wondered why Tony didn't just act like himself. He couldn't imagine anyone calling Tony mediocre if they could see how much he genuinely enjoyed his craft.

 

*


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're writing about a moment in time and when we listen we're transported there and no matter how many times you replay the track, it's almost like you never left."

That afternoon the band had some down time. They wouldn't be performing until the following evening. Bruce, Clint and Rhodey cornered Tony in the hallway. "Just found out the X-Men are in the hotel across the street and we're thinking about beating them in a poker game. You in?" Clint wiggled his brows. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony spotted Steve and Thor entering the hotel room a few feet down the hall.

"I'll tell you what, give me five minutes and I'll join you guys," he said.

"In Tony Stark speak five minutes means an hour and a half," Rhodey informed them.

"Aww, c'mon. No one fakes it better than you," Clint said.

"Except your last girlfriend," Tony countered. "I heard her down the hall. She was really good at--"

"Enough already. Both of you," Rhodey said, and this time he didn't seem humored at all. "Tony, if you feel like joining us we'll be across the street." Rhodey walked off. Clint gave Tony a sheepish glance and Tony shrugged in return and walked towards the room he'd just seen Steve and Thor go into. He was a few steps away when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey." It was Bruce.

"Hey," Tony replied.

"You really like that kid, huh?"

"Who, Steve?" Tony shrugged again; it was beginning to be a bad habit.

"Maybe? I don't know. I was-- I like him as a person. I like spending time with him, and yeah he's attractive, but-- you know half the people I've slept with, I don't even know their last names?" Tony felt like the hallway was moving and he hadn't even smoked anything this morning. It was such a simple yes or no question. He hadn't meant to reveal all that.

"Tony, relax."

"I'm relaxed."

"Good, because it's okay. We all make mistakes," Bruce said.

Tony laughed, but it was tight and came out sounding unnatural. "Did your Buddha tell you that?"

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "It's not a religious thing. It's just common sense. And here's a few more bits of common sense: you don't have to behave according to what others expect of you. You're well within your rights to say 'no' if you don't want to do something."

"Sometimes I have no idea what you're talking about," Tony said, but he felt uncomfortable all the same.

"Don't worry, you will," Bruce said, and he left. Tony was pretty sure he enjoyed being eerily cryptic and lurky like Natasha.

"Okay." He shrugged and walked the rest of the way to Steve's room. He knocked on the hotel room door. He tried to clear his head of the conversation he'd just had with Bruce. It was just too-- too something Tony couldn't really put his finger on.

"Tony, my friend, welcome!"

"Hi. Thor. You know, I think they're looking for a fourth in a poker game against the X-Men, you in?"

"Absolutely! I love the X-Men. One of my favorite bands. Their lead guitarist Logan goes by Wolverine, and put out a great solo track last year. Steve, have you heard their new album? It is marvelous, don't you think?"

Steve was sitting on the bed with a pad of paper in his lap. "Marvelous, I agree," he said, his tone deadpan. Tony tried not to smile.

"They're across the street now, Thor. When you get there can you tell them I'll be along in five minutes?"

"I will, of course!" Thor beamed and headed out of the room. Tony spotted an acoustic guitar leaned up against the wall near Thor's bed. He picked it up and sat on the bed next to Steve. "I didn't know Thor played guitar."

"Yep," Steve said distractedly.

"He's gorgeous, you're gorgeous. Do you guys just sit around flexing and telling each other how great you look?"

"Yep," Steve said, and he obviously hadn't heard what Tony said because he didn't even give Tony his customary blush. The deceitful one he reserved just for Tony whenever he commented on Steve's looks. The one that kept Tony thinking he had a chance in hell. He strummed a minor chord on the guitar.

"Whatcha doing?" Tony peeked over at Steve's notebook and nearly dropped the guitar. "You're an artist? How did I not guess this about you?"

Steve hugged the sketchpad to his chest. "It's not really important right now."

Tony set the guitar down. "Of course it is. And from what I could tell before you got all defensive, it was really good. Was that Thor and Jane? From the night of Bruce's party, right? Have they seen it? God, beautiful."

Steve stared at him and Tony was pretty sure it was borderline glaring.

"Is everything okay?" Tony asked. "I'm sorry. I should've asked before I looked."

Steve visibly deflated and dropped the sketchpad on the bed. Tony tried to avert his gaze, but he couldn't. The black and white sketch of Jane winding her arms around Thor's neck. The light and shadow indicated warmth in her face even though it was partially buried against Thor's shoulder. And Thor, arms wrapped around her, exuded the presence of comfort and love and peace. It was oddly revealing. Like looking at a naked photograph of your mother hidden between the mattress of your parents' bed and realizing you never really knew her at all. Looking at the photograph felt like seeing Thor and Jane for the first time, the way Steve saw them. And it was beautiful. Tony swallowed around something hard in his throat.

"Nothing's coming out right," Steve was saying when Tony checked back into the conversation. Steve sounded angry or frustrated or both.

Tony opened his mouth to disagree, then thought better of it. "What are you trying to capture?" he said instead.

Steve looked glumly at his notepad. "The moment."

"Ah, that impossible thing," Tony said quietly.

"Not impossible. You did it," Steve said. "I noticed it recently while I was listening to your earlier albums. I think that's the difference between the first two albums and this latest one. You're writing about a moment in time. Moments and the raw feelings in those moments, and when we listen we're transported there and no matter how many times you replay the track, it's almost like you never left."

Tony stared at the opposite wall. He didn't really know what to say. The too hot dizzy feeling crept up on him again, like he was suddenly high on weed or ecstasy. He barely registered the shift in the mattress when Steve was suddenly closer, but he shivered when he felt Steve's lips brush against his cheek. When their lips met, Tony felt the heat spread from his head to every inch of his body. He leaned in and pressed his tongue into Steve's open mouth, and that was--that was incredible. Steve wasn't a particularly masterful kisser, but he was very enthusiastically trying and he was a fast learner. They sat there until Steve found a good rhythm. All too soon it became something filthy, and Steve was gasping into Tony's mouth and everything inside Tony throbbed and ached for more. He paused for a breath and stared at Steve, a mess of blotchy skin and lips all swollen and even more red.

"Stay there," Tony said, breathless, "but just scoot back a little."

Steve moved awkwardly across the bed until his head and back rested against the wall. Tony tried, but he couldn't keep his eyes off the way Steve's jeans strained to contain him. When Steve was settled, Tony nodded and straddled his lap. Steve's eyes widened a bit.

"It's okay," Tony whispered. "I love your mouth. I just want to feel more of you."

Steve slid his hands beneath Tony's t-shirt, and Tony took that as permission to continue. He kissed Steve again, settling on his thighs. Then he slid his palm along the bulge in Steve's pants and Steve groaned. _Jesus,_ it took every ounce of self-control for Tony not to work himself into a frenzy. He could feel his mouth getting wetter just imagining _that_ on his tongue. "Gonna touch you," Tony muttered against Steve's lips.

Steve made a humming sound and captured Tony's lips again. Tony unzipped Steve's pants and slipped his hand inside. He felt himself shiver again, and really this was all a bit much. Steve was so warm, so hot. Tony ran his fist up and down slowly. He felt Steve's breath catch, heard his own heart pounding in his ears.

"Can I--" Steve let his head fall back against the wall. His eyes were squeezed shut, and when he opened them again his gaze was so raw and exposed Tony had to look down. "Can I touch you?" Steve's voice was shaky and, yeah, Tony was doing that to him.

"Yes, touch me, please touch me."

Steve didn't need to be asked twice. Tony didn't notice anything Steve was doing until he felt Steve's large hand around his cock. He tightened his grip on Steve and moved faster. Steve was matching his pace, but he was so gentle that Tony wanted to grab his hand and guide him. "Hold on," Tony said. Steve stilled. Tony scooted closer and then, when he was lined up, he fisted their cocks together. Steve made a choking sound and groaned softly, his breath ghosting against Tony's ear. Tony could feel him shifting his thighs almost like he wanted to thrust upwards. Then he pressed his face against Tony's neck and cried out, and Tony's hand was suddenly wet and warm.

"S-sorry," Steve gasped. "I didn't--"

"You're so fucking beautiful. Will you kiss me again?" Tony couldn't stop his hands from shaking. He hadn't expected to say _that_ , just something to keep Steve from panicking and that's all he could think. It was all he could see. Steve obliged, and Tony started rubbing himself off while Steve helped. As their kiss deepened, he felt Steve nearly fully hard again. He paused to adjust his grip and breathe. He needed to relax. He needed to breathe and stop trembling, stop shivering like he'd never done this before. This was just sex. It was just-- Steve. Steve looking at him, lost and so beautiful. Why wouldn't that word leave his head?

"We're okay," Tony mumbled, and he found himself repeating it, to whose benefit he wasn't sure. Steve came again a short while later and Tony followed. The tension faded, but not completely. There were soft kisses and heated breaths against his jaw, and Tony wanted to stay in this quiet place all day.

"Tony, can we lay down?" Steve shifted, and Tony noticed Steve was half-hard _again_. And maybe Tony didn't really remember being 20 much at all.

"Yeah, we can lay down. We can do whatever you want." He climbed off of Steve's lap and Steve breathed and lay down on the bed, his head resting on the pillow at the top. He started to zip his pants back up but Tony stopped him.

"You can't be real right now," Tony whispered as he moved everything to the floor. He lay down next to Steve and took him in hand.

"I'm sorry-- I can't-- I can't stop it."

Tony grinned. "Do I look like I'm complaining?" He would've gone down on Steve, but he didn't feel steady enough for that. He didn't want to pass out midway through from whatever was causing him to tremble like this. Steve might freak out and never come back. And Tony knew before he was even finished that he wanted Steve to come back. When Steve was finished, at least for now, Tony stood up, albeit shakily, and walked to the bathroom. He kept the light off to avoid looking at himself in the mirror. He washed his hands and his face and when he came back to the bedroom he saw Steve lying down facing the wall. Tony lay down next to him and ran his fingers through Steve's hair.

"Is it okay? Everything? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Steve said, and they fell asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Emonym23's birthday today which is why we've posted so often. Sorry about that! Happy birthday, love <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How long have you been--doing ... art?" Tony asked, leaning over Steve's shoulder.

Steve felt like he was dreaming when he blinked and woke suddenly. It was dark and his skin was sticky and messy. Tony's arm was thrown casually around his waist as he breathed deep and his body moved slowly up and down. All signs indicated that it had been real. Steve didn't know what to think. He'd wanted to kiss Tony. He'd wanted to touch him, and never in his life had he imagined it would feel like that. Now he felt panicked. He reached up and grabbed Tony's arm, pulling it tighter to his abdomen and holding it there. Tony shifted, moving closer, and Steve stilled, not wanting to wake him. Dreading what he'd say when he did wake up: _Well, kid, it was nice while it lasted._ Steve didn't want to think about it anymore so he closed his eyes. He cursed the burn in the back of his throat and took a sharp breath in.

"Steve?" Tony's groggy voice made him start.

"Mhmm," he responded, pretending to be sleepy.

"Are you okay?"

"Uh huh." He felt Tony's hand on his forehead and it was really cold. After a moment, Steve realized it was actually because he was burning up. He opened his eyes reluctantly and Tony was propped up on one elbow staring at him.

"Are you sure?"

Steve looked at the ceiling, then closed his eyes. "Yeah." He exhaled a deep breath out and his mind wasn't capable of anything much more coherent. He just leaned into Tony and closed his eyes.

 

*

 

A couple of days later the band had a particularly crazy show. Some sort of college festival was going on and the grounds were full of inebriated students, which led to countless drunken fights. Cops arrived in droves and the show was nearly shut down halfway through.

"Darcy would be so jealous if I told her about this right now," Jane said when things were relatively back in order and they returned to the crowded tent. "In fact--I'm surprised she's not here--Oh yeah, she's doing research. Never mind."

Steve looked at her. "Darcy?"

"Sorry, she's a friend from college." They walked to the back wall and Jane took a box cutter and opened a box of large t-shirts. "When I told her that Thor invited me on tour, she didn't talk to me for a week because she knew she'd be doing sociology research all summer."

Steve laughed, breaking down an empty box and tossing it in the trash pile so Jane could replace it. "Yeah, I think Bucky would kill to see something like this too."

Jane looked at him. "We're imposters." She grinned. "So how is Bucky anyway?"

"He went to Europe."

"Oh yeah, you two always used to talk about going there together."

Steve glanced at a stack of records that needed to be reorganized. "Yeah" His mind began to wander to the past few months.

"Bet you didn't think you'd be on tour." Jane brought him back, thankfully before he thought too much about it. "Think you could do this all the time?"

"I don't know."

 

*

 

Steve came by Tony's room later that night. Things hadn't changed from their routine of spending time together, except now they were sitting close on Tony's queen sized bed. Steve had his sketchpad out and he was drawing the chaotic crowd from earlier. Tony flipped through channels on the TV until he eventually turned it down. "Nothing good on," he said, more to himself than Steve. "How long have you been--doing ... art?" Tony asked, leaning over his shoulder.

Steve felt his cheeks color and he placed his pencil down, resisting the urge to close the sketchbook. He didn't like when anyone watched him draw over his shoulder. He turned to face Tony, who kissed him lightly on the lips. He wondered if he would get to a point when that didn't send a shiver down his spine. He hoped not. "I don't know. As long as I remember, I guess. Been awhile since I've drawn this much though."

"Really? Why?" Tony slipped a hand up the back of Steve's shirt.

Steve shrugged and there was a pang in his chest. "I left school and I got busy I guess." He leaned back against Tony's chest and Tony pulled him closer, his fingers resting on the bare skin of Steve's abdomen.

"You left school?"

"Yeah." Steve felt his muscles tense. "Like I said, things weren't really coming out right."

"Were you studying art?"

"Mhmm. That's why I was in New York." Steve realized it had been a while since he really thought about New York and home. It gave him a sinking feeling.

"I live in New York." Tony beamed. "Are you going back this fall?"

"Uh, no ... I—don’t think I can yet." Steve pulled away from Tony and slid back against the wall, looking at the sketch in his hands. "I, uh, lost my scholarship, actually."

"No way. How's that even possible? Your art is--" Tony paused. "Your art is great. Even if it's not up to your standards, there's no way..." he trailed off.

Steve shook his head. "It was my fault. I missed assignment deadlines. Stopped going to class." He was starting to feel dizzy. "Then my grades went down to match."

Tony was quiet for a moment and finally asked, "Did something happen?"

Steve was aware of Tony's eyes on him, but he didn't look up. He really didn't want to have this conversation anymore. "It's--my mom got sick." He looked at Tony and back down. "My second year."

"I'm sorry," Tony said. "I-I don't know what to say. Is she...?"

Steve bit down hard on his bottom lip. He could feel his fists clench at his sides. "She died before I made it back to see her." Steve stood abruptly before Tony could respond. "It's late. I better go."

Tony tugged on his arm. Steve looked down at him and tried to hold back the tears burning in the back of his throat.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please don't leave," Tony said. He turned into a blur in front of Steve anyway. Tony pulled him gently down and into his arms, holding him. Steve didn't resist, just tried to breathe by matching Tony's breathing. "Don't leave," Tony repeated as he kissed his wet cheeks.

"Okay."

 

*

 

They left for Austin early the next morning. Natasha, Jane, Gwen, T'challa, and Steve were playing Go Fish as they drove down the highway, passing exits and road signs directing them to the World's Biggest insert object here. "Ah, I have read the most recent reviews for the tour." Thor settled into the seat next to Jane.

"Well, let's hear it," Natasha said. Peter sat up in his bunk and leaned closer.

"It says, and I quote: 'The Avengers, who have recently been criticized for poor stage presence, likely due to Tony Stark's admitted tendency to 'check out' during performances, seem to have found their footing once again. I can't remember the last time I had this much fun at a concert (actually I can, it was back in '75. The Avengers Winter of Our Discontent tour when the band was still finding their footing). The band's luster came from their enthusiasm for show and of course the remarkable music. Although the band has been sampling heavily from the music of its first two albums during this tour, I can only offer praise. I'd heard the songs a thousand times, but last night everything about the band felt brand new.'"

"Yay!" Natasha said, drumming her hands excitedly against the table. "I can't wait to show this to the guys."

"It's been great lately. He's right!" T'challa said.

"Steve, I think you've helped with this turnaround!" Thor smiled at him.

"Huh?"

"Your romantic involvement with Tony Stark has obviously improved the quality of his performance."

"Um--what--no..." He could feel his face burning. "Tony--he's amazing, he's--" Steve cut himself off, wishing he could disappear. It wasn't like he and Tony had announced that they were, whatever they were, but now that he thought about it they hadn't exactly been discreet either.

"Thor, I think that's supposed to be private." Jane tapped Thor gently on the arm.

Natasha and T'challa chuckled.

Gwen rubbed his arm and said, "Sorry, Steve. It's kind of impossible to keep secrets around here."

"It's okay." Steve looked up, trying to appear unfazed. "But seriously, Tony's great on his own. The first time I saw him perform he was amazing. And that was before I even met him."

"Ah, see! You are smitten with him as I am with my dearest Jane." Thor beamed and hugged Jane close. She gave Steve an apologetic look and then gazed at Thor fondly.

Steve covered his face with his hand, and Natasha reached over and patted him on the shoulder.

Later on, when he and Natasha were the only ones still awake and sitting in the kitchen, he said, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." She looked up from her magazine that was surprisingly not about music. It looked to be a crime magazine called _Master Detective_. "What is it?"

Steve fiddled with the deck, shuffling the cards. "You and Bruce ... um, are you in love?"

Natasha's usually unreadable gray eyes brightened. "Yeah." She closed her magazine and looked back up. "I think so. Why?"

"Well, it's just, him being a rock star. Does it ever-- I don't know..."

"Steve?" Natasha gave him that unnervingly perceptive look. "Thor wasn't kidding, you really love Tony, don't you?"

Steve shuffled through the deck again, counting automatically in his head. The sound of the engine permeated the room and a gentle bump knocked the blinds back against the windows. "I don't know," he admitted. "I mean, how do I--I've never even dated anyone, male or female. The most I _have_ had are crushes, and I sound really pathetic, don't I?" He remembered he'd given Peter advice on this less than a month ago, and he couldn't even handle his own feelings.

"No." Natasha took his hand. "Relax, Steve. You don't need to know all the answers. Sometimes the only way is to experience something. Don't overthink it."

Steve took a deep breath in and the tight feeling in his chest had lessened. Natasha said, "Rock stars are just people. High profile, emotionally scarred people, but people all the same." She paused, looking thoughtful. "And Tony, well, I'm not going to pretend he has the best track record, but there's something different about him lately. If that's worth anything."

Steve smiled. "Thanks." He had no idea how he'd survived so long without Natasha in his life. She was straight to the point, but she was honest and he really wanted to believe she was right.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tour title "winter of our discontent" reference from William Shakespeare's Richard III


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "That's the point. That's what it is. They're so raw. Intimate, like--like sex. Sorry, not a good example? The point is, they're beautiful. And it'd be ten times more interesting than even more staged photos of us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:Extra long chapter but mildly dubious consent occurs in this chapter though not between the main pairing. Be wary. Also be wary! Those who are triggered by brief mention or talk of suicide.

*

 

"I was wrong," Rhodey said. They were backstage after the Denver show and Tony had just showered. He tilted his head to the side and tapped it to make sure he'd gotten all of the water out of his ears.

"Sorry, I think I misheard you. What'd you say?"

"Don't make me say it again, Stark," Rhodey answered with a grin and took a final drag of his joint before putting it out. "I was fucking wrong, alright? Steve is a good kid and he's good for you. He's not easily influenced by your bullshit."

"I take offense to that."

"No, you don't."

"No, I don't. What made you change your mind, sweetie?"

"Well for one thing," Rhodey said, "the hope that you'd stop assigning _me_ all the ridiculous nicknames, but I guess that hope is in vain."

Tony mimed 'I love you' and Rhodey shook his head and smiled.

"I like you this way. You care about things and people and this band," he said.

Tony sighed. "I've always cared."

"Tony, when you don't care about yourself or your own life, how can we ever believe that you'll respect and care about the rest of us? We're a team, at least we're supposed to be, and you're its leader whether you want to be or not. Your health reflects on us, so if you let yourself drown we're basically dead in the water."

"Wow, that was-- did you rehearse that? I feel like you just channeled my dad, you know, when he was really fucked up and deep and shit."

"I really hate you sometimes," Rhodey said. His lips were pressed in a line like he was trying to keep himself from laughing.

"No you don't, buttercup. Come give me a kiss."

"Fucking get dressed before I tell Steve you're in here blatantly hitting on me."

"Aye aye, Captain." Tony saluted.

That night, Steve emptied his knapsack on Tony's bed and out spilled bottles of lube of all different flavors and condoms of all different sizes and colors. Steve's cheeks and ears were bright pink and Tony grinned, imagining what Steve must've looked like in the convenience store. "Such a boy scout," he teased.

"Tony," Steve said tightly. He looked tense enough to leave the room, and that was the last thing Tony wanted.He picked up a bottle of lube and one box of condoms.

 "I think this is okay," Tony said, sliding everything else back into the bag. He climbed onto the bed and patted the spot next to him. "It's gonna be okay, I promise."

Steve climbed on the bed hesitantly, and as Tony kissed him, he felt Steve relax. He straddled Steve's lap. They'd done this thousands of times. Steve knew how to kiss Tony and he knew how to get off and off and off doing it. When Tony felt Steve hard underneath him, he pulled back and unwrapped a condom. Steve watched him, skin flushed and eyes scared."Are you sure you're ready?" Tony asked, pecking Steve's lips.

"Tony, I just purchased every item in the pharmacy. I--I think I'm ready."

Tony bit his bottom lip to hide a grin. "Fair enough. We're gonna take it nice and slow. I just want to ride you, is that okay?"

Steve swallowed and nodded his head."Okay, big guy," Tony whispered. "It's gonna feel weird but good, so good. I promise."

It took time to find a good rhythm. Steve was easily aroused but he finished just as quickly, and by the third time Steve shivered and sat up, shaky, on his elbows. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I can't-- this is so embarrass--"

"It's okay," Tony interrupted, pressing his mouth against Steve's throat. "I want you to feel good. I want this to be good for you."

Even as Tony massaged soothing circles along Steve's back and kissed his shoulders, Steve still felt tense.

Tony sat back and his throat burned as he took in the naked fear on Steve's face, and okay, that wasn't normal. "Hey," he whispered.

"I've never done this before." Steve fisted the sheets.

"I know. It's okay. It's the first time and you're so perfect."

"Can we-- can I--"

"Whatever you want." He needed Steve to know that. That he could have anything.

"Tony," Steve took a shaky breath. "Can I be on top?"

 _Jesus_ , Tony was wound up like a spring. He hadn't felt this anxious in years. "Yes, you mean you want me to--to--fuck you."

Tony felt Steve start to harden inside him. He bit his lip and grinned, hopeful.

Steve covered his face like he felt guilty for what they both knew was happening. "I mean on top, but I--"

"Oh, you want to change positions," Tony said. "Okay, yeah, okay. You can fuck me into the mattress, that's fine."

Steve laughed, quiet and breathy, and Tony felt like singing.

Soon Tony was on his back with Steve between his thighs. The situation didn't change much. Steve found a good rhythm; he hit Tony's prostate and came again minutes later. "It feels good, I know," Tony reassured him. He curled his fingers into Steve's sweat damp hair and whispered in his ear. "I'm making you feel that. I'm making you shiver like that."

Steve got hard again and had to put on a new condom and more lube. It would have been comical if Steve wasn't so nervous and if Tony weren't so fascinated. Tony wanted to come but he could wait. He was curious to know how often Steve could do this. He was like the Energizer bunny, going and coming and going and coming and coming. Tony had never seen anything like it.

"I'm sorry. I just--"

"One more time, honey? Please, gorgeous," Tony said. "Can you get hard for me?"

Going on the fourth time in, Steve managed to hit his prostate every time, and when Tony came his mind went blank. When he opened his eyes again, Steve was on the bed wrapped in the sheets. Tony felt uncomfortable covered in drying sweat and other stuff. He'd gotten everything he wanted from the moment he first saw Steve. He should have been content to walk away. He should feel calm and relieved and free, but he felt even less like himself. Trembling, he curled up next to Steve, who felt feverishly warm. "How are you?" Tony asked.

"I've never done this before," Steve whispered as Tony hugged him close.

Tony's heart pounded furiously. "Me neither."

 

*

 

When Steve was fast asleep, Tony felt jittery and awake in the way he felt when he was a kid lying on the beach composing music in his mind to the sound of the waves. He knew he'd never sleep until he could get it out, so he slipped out of bed, showered, and grabbed his bag. Stretched out on the couch in the sitting room with a pen and an old notebook, he wrote melodies and notes that wove together so clearly he could hear them playing in his mind. He could see the colors in the notes, feel the way the harmonies kissed his skin and the drumbeat pulsed in time with his heart. Not Tony's heart, but Steve's. And the tempo was slow and steady and strong.

The main melody was so clear that adding the instruments was easy. Tony didn't know the words yet, but he knew what the song meant, and that-- that was terrifying.

"Early morning tomorrow."

A tall, blond girl in a t-shirt and not much else walked towards him. Tony squinted because he recognized her, but he couldn't place her. He was almost certain she was one of Clint or Rhodey's fuck buddies.

"A little sleep deprivation never hurt anybody," Tony said. He was just being polite, he thought that'd be the end of it, but she nudged his feet and sat on the edge of the couch.

"What are you doing up so late?" she asked.

"Couldn't sleep," Tony said.

"Are you writing?"

Yeah," he replied, his tone short. He was irritated now. She was interrupting his song.

"I've, like, always wanted someone to write a song about me."

"This isn't about you," Tony muttered, closing the old notebook. He couldn't write with other people in the room anyway. "Who'd you come here with?"

"The guitar player." She smiled conspiratorially. "But everybody knows the lead singer is the one you _really_ want to fuck."

Tony raised his eyebrows. In the past he might have been okay with this, he might have been so high on something or another that he wouldn't even realize he was doing this. He'd gotten into it with Clint a few times over women among other things. Once, it got so bad that Clint threatened to quit. Now though, Tony felt ill even imagining that scenario. "What's your name again?" he asked.

"Cindy," she said. "How many tattoos do you have?"

"Plenty."

"I've got like three. Want to see?" She lifted her t-shirt off and she was naked except for her panties, which Tony could see through.

He closed his eyes. "Not especially. I think Clint misses the warmth of you in his bed. Maybe you should go to sleep?"

"I'd rather keep you warm." She leaned forward and climbed onto his lap. Tony knew he was way past the point of being polite, but pushing her away still felt rude. He appreciated all of his fans, but his mouth felt dry. "Everyone says you're, like, incredible in bed," she said.

"Who's everyone?" His whole body prickled with discomfort.

"Word gets around. Troubled genius, tragic past, of course you're great in bed." She ran her fingertips over his chest. "So am I, you know. I'm great in bed."

"You have to go," he said. "I don't want-- I don't want to do this."

"Why not?" She pouted. "Don't you think I'm pretty?"

"Pretty is actually the perfect word to describe you, but I'm just not interested. I'm sorry."

"Well, like, can I at least have a kiss?" She had her lips on his neck before she finished talking, and two minutes later her lips were moving against his and admittedly it felt good, but disorienting. He pushed her away, trying to be as gentle as possible. "What's wrong?" she whispered.When Tony opened his eyes again he saw Rhodey standing in the hallway.

"Don't mind me, just getting some water," Rhodey said. Tony didn't respond, he wasn't sure he could. He was tired of being polite. He lifted Cindy off of his lap and stood up.

She giggled and curled up on the couch. Tony wanted to run out of the room, but her head rested on his notebook, her blond hair fanned out to cover it.

"Can you get up?" he said.

She sighed and sat upright, her smile faded but her cheeks still flushed pink. "So-- we're, like, really not gonna fool around?"

Tony picked up his notebook and walked out. He pushed open the door and hurried down 15 flights of steps out of the hotel lobby all the way to the parking lot. It was only then, as he leaned up against the door of the tour bus, that he could finally breathe.

 

*

 

Steve woke up when he felt the bed shift. "Hey," he said groggily. It was dark, but he could make out the shape of Tony sitting on the end of the bed. "You okay?"

Tony didn't turn around to face him. "Yeah."

Steve lifted onto his elbows. "You sure?"

Tony turned then and smiled. "Uh huh. Just dandy." Then he crawled toward Steve and laid his head down on his chest. Steve could tell he was lying, but he wrapped his arms around Tony instinctively, stroking one hand in Tony's hair. Neither of them spoke, and Steve thought about what could be bothering Tony.Maybe now that they'd slept together, he wanted to break if off with Steve and didn't know how. That thought cut deep, twisting in the pit of his stomach. He could feel Tony's heart beating, hard at first and then leveling out the longer they lay like that. He pulled Tony closer.

 

*

 

The drive to Chicago was long and Steve started to feel fatigued by days and nights spent on the road. As much as he loved spending time with the crew, he wouldn't mind some time apart. Tony hadn't acted out of the ordinary since that night. He showed no indication of wanting to end things with Steve. If anything, he was even more focused on him than before and it was as terrifying as it was incredible.

It was one of the hottest days of the summer when they reached the Chicago venue late in the afternoon. As he sat at the merch booth, Steve's clothes clung to him and he wished this had been an indoor venue. He tried to focus his attention on selling, but it wasn't as busy as they hoped. Probably because most people didn't have the energy to walk anywhere but to the ice cream stand. Even the band was a lot less animated from what Steve could see. Clint didn't do his usual jumps and Rhodey didn't even stand up while he led the audience in clapping.

It was a relief when the show was over and they went back into the air-conditioned building they had set up in. The band had a meet and greet with a lucky group of fans next on their schedule. Steve spotted Thor and Miles in the corner of the warm up room, both of them holding a cool bottle of water. Miles was adjusting some mics and talking quietly to himself. Steve noticed he did that often to make sure he didn't forget things.

The excited group of fans entered and the head of security, Happy Hogan, made sure they were in an organized line. Slowly the line moved forward as everyone took a picture with the band members and/or got autographs.

Steve opened his sketchbook, which was rapidly running out of space.

"Why does this trick elude me?" Thor stomped a frustrated foot as he wound his yo-yo up again.

"Oh my god. I can't believe we're actually here," a fan whispered excitedly. Steve looked up and saw the girl who clearly had a false idea of what constituted a whisper. She was wearing a purple crop top, a faded jean skirt, and sheer black tights.

"I know," the girl standing next to her agreed, clapping her hands together. She had on red shorts and a vest with a sports bra underneath. "We're _this_ close to Tony Stark."

"We can touch him."

"We can _touch_ him." They grinned at each other.

After a moment the girl in purple said, "You should have heard my mom talking about Howard Stark this morning. It was so weird. She kept saying how sexy he was. I feel like I should tell my dad."

"Ew, my mom is the same way. She keeps telling me I should listen to The Manhattan Project because they were so socially conscious." The girls laughed, moving forward in the line. Steve lost track of their conversation.

He turned to Thor. "Do you know anything about Tony's dad? As a musician?"

"Steve, I believe that you are jesting. Why of course I do. Howard Stark was one of the greatest musicians of our time. Unfortunately, like many great musicians before him, he was lost to the world of drugs and heavy alcohol." Thor paused, looking at the yo-yo gripped tight in his hand. If he wasn't mistaken, Steve thought Thor's eyes looked watery. "When Tony first began writing, they compared him to Howard quite often. But I think it is safe to say he has created his own legacy."

Later that night, while most of the band and crew went roller skating, Steve and Tony stayed back at the hotel. Tony had borrowed _Close Encounters of the Third Kind_ from Bruce and they sat watching it together on the couch in the common area. Steve considered asking Tony about Howard when Tony said suddenly, "Can we use your art for the album cover?"

"What?" Steve's eyes widened and he glanced at Tony.

"The sketches and stuff you made of the band. I thought, if you don't mind, they'd make great cover art."

Several snacks had accumulated on the coffee table since they'd been there: Pringles, Mike and Ikes, and a half empty container of Chips Ahoy cookies. Steve stared beyond the mess to the TV screen, watching Richard Dreyfuss sit down to an awkward family dinner. He attempted to process Tony's words. "Are you serious?"

"Steve, have you seen your work? Right, of course you have, but _I_ _'_ _ve_ never seen anything like it."

Steve raised his eyebrows in disbelief. His cheeks were starting to burn. "But those? They're drafts--they're not even polished--"

"That's the point. That's what it is. They're so raw. Intimate, like--like sex. Sorry, not a good example? The point is, they're beautiful. And it'd be ten times more interesting than even more staged photos of us."

It felt as if he'd just been pushed on stage to perform. "Tony, I don't know what to say." He could feel the flush spreading from his face down to his neck. "I--I'd love it. Thanks."

"Great. I'll talk to Pepper, and you can work everything out with her."

Steve leaned into Tony and tried to kiss him on the cheek but ended up somewhere around his neck instead. Tony stroked Steve's hair and that felt nice. Really nice. He closed his eyes and felt himself shiver. Tony's fingers in his hair were light and teasing and he probably didn't intend to make Steve hard. He let out a slightly labored breath, and when he opened his eyes Tony was watching him.

"Fuck, you're incredible." Tony kissed him and his hands went to Steve's belt buckle. They didn't see much of the movie after that.

 

*


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So much had changed since the summer first started. Steve never expected to have this bittersweet feeling about it being nearly over.

*

 

"In two weeks I'll be free to do whatever I want, and I think I want to visit my mom and let her know how I am," Rhodey said.

"Tell her hi from me," Tony said.

"From all of us," Bruce added, and Clint nodded in agreement. The day had been hot, long and hectic, and the band sat in the common area of their Miami hotel room. It was one of the most high-end suites the record company had ever set them up with. There was a pool, a jacuzzi, a bar, and a lounge. He couldn't wait to check out the pool. He'd just showered and already his t-shirt was practically sticking to him. Tony poured them all drinks.

"So, what should we toast to?" Clint asked, lifting his glass. "Freedom?"

"Your remarkable ability to keep that guitar perfectly in tune?" Tony smirked.

"How about my engagement?" Bruce asked. Tony nearly choked on his gin, and judging by the expressions on Rhodey and Clint's faces they'd nearly done the same.

"Engagement?!" Clint managed.

Bruce looked smug. "Yeah, she said yes, so--"

"Oh my god, you're a grown up." Rhodey stood up to pat him on the back. "You're the most responsible person in this room right now. Wait, is she pregnant?"

"No," Bruce said coolly. "We both agreed we don't want any damn kids."

Rhodey laughed and Tony said, "Congratulations! We need to plan the bachelor party. It's going to be ridiculous."

"By extension does this make her the band wife?" Clint asked.

"Yeah, I think so." Tony grinned. He couldn't stop smiling, and maybe it was because Bruce had managed to find Natasha even when the world they lived in was so incredibly superficial. And Tony had found Steve.

"Speaking of the band," Rhodey said, "Pepper says there's a chance to extend this into a European tour in the fall. What do you guys think?"

There was silence around the room. As exciting as it was, tours were exhausting and the constant traveling made it easy to forget they had a home. Not to mention Tony dreaded leaving the country if he couldn't bring Steve with him.

"Why not?" Clint shrugged. "If we're in demand, why not?"

"I need time to think about it," Tony said.

"Well if _you're_ not into it, it's not happening," Clint said dryly.

"Nah, it's okay. Think about it, we all can." Rhodey offered Tony a small smile.

 

*

 

The day had been exhausting and the heat made it worse. Nearly everyone was in bed by 10:30. Tony was dozing off when Steve kissed his shoulder and moved closer. "Tony, I can't sleep. Do you want to fool around?" he asked.

Tony stretched with a grin and faced him. "You're insatiable, aren't you?"

Steve took a deep breath. "I just thought you might want to."

"I do, but I need to cool down. Let's go in the pool first," Tony said.

He was more than happy to loan Steve a pair of red, white, and blue swim trunks that were just a little too tight.

"These barely fit," Steve protested, "and I feel like America's number one fan or something."

"No, no, it's fine, you look great," Tony cajoled him, and when Steve went to grab a towel Tony saw the way the fabric clung to his ass and he wanted to put a hand over his heart and pledge allegiance.

Tony took two Heinekens from the minibar and gave one to Steve who sat on the edge of the pool dangling his feet in the water.

"You're no fun." Tony grinned. He set his drink next to Steve and jumped in. It wasn't deep but it was refreshingly cool. He arose from the water and saw Steve, wet and glaring at him.

"You did that on purpose."

Tony laughed and approached the pool edge, placing himself between Steve's legs. "Why would I want you all wet and dripping?" He batted his eyelashes innocently, and Steve cupped a hand in the water and splashed him. Tony grinned and pressed a kiss to Steve's inner thigh just to watch him shudder. "We'll be in New York soon and I'll get to have you in my own bed."

Steve sighed. "You were born there, right?"

"Yeah, I grew up in the city. So did Rhodey."

"How'd you guys meet?"

"At my dad's funeral. His father knew him. I was--" Tony paused, then told Steve how Rhodey found him in the closet of the massive church having a panic attack. Rhodey didn't even bring it up, just asked Tony if he wanted to go to the diner across the street. They snuck out of the church and had pancakes while the funeral procession headed to the graveyard. His mother was furious, but Tony didn't think the day could've gone any better. "We had some epic times hanging out in the city."

Steve was silent, and Tony knew he was thinking about his own mom. One day Tony would learn not to say whatever was on his mind. Steve didn't dwell on it though. He asked Tony about his dad.

"As a person or a musician?" Tony asked.

"Both," Steve said.

Tony told him about Howard being considered a rock legend. "He's been inducted into the rock and roll hall of fame. I was supposed to collect the award, but I was too-- busy. Rhodey went instead."

He talked about the groupies. "Women used to come up to me all the time. I remember when I was about eight, this woman came to the door and asked me if my daddy was home. She was topless. My mom threw a fit. She started screaming in Italian and the girl panicked and ran. But Jarvis, our butler, said stuff like that happened all the time. That was my first memory of it, though. I think that was the first time I ever realized we were a weird family."

Steve laughed and then told Tony some of his stories about New York City. "Peggy and I started the Howling Commandos at school. It's like a social justice group. There were a lot of people who'd been bullied in school for things they couldn't help, like social class, race, ethnicity, sexuality. People say life's not fair like it's a fact, but that saying is only there to reinforce that idea. I mean, it's true we don't get to pick our lot in life, but that doesn't mean injustice should be accepted. You know?"

Tony nodded. He was leaning against Steve's leg, impressed by the sudden passion in his tone and the way he brought his shoulders upright and straightened his back. "The group is a safe place to discuss social ills in America and formulate ideas for change," Steve continued.

"So how's the group doing without you?" Tony asked.

Steve slouched again and gazed at the water. "They're fine."

"You miss them."

"I miss a lot of things about New York. I miss Bucky. One morning we fell asleep on the subway and woke up in Brooklyn. We'd already missed our appointment, so we went outside to walk around and there was an art festival going on. It was great. They had all kinds of paintings. I could've stayed for hours, but Bucky wanted to get food." Steve wore a goofy grin and Tony wanted to kiss it.

"Is Bucky your boyfriend?" he asked, sliding his hands up Steve's muscular thighs. "Cause you talk about him all the time, and it's making me kinda jealous."

"No." Steve laughed. "No, Tony. I've only-- it's only been you. Bucky's my best friend. He went to Europe this summer. It's something we've always wanted to do before my mom-- before I lost my scholarship."

"Ah." Tony nodded, looking down at the water. "I may go to Europe this fall on tour and I want you to come. If you're not doing anything else."

Steve squinted and clapped his palm over his face. "This is unreal. I keep forgetting you're a big rock star. Every time I'm with you it's one thing, but when I see fans at your shows it's unreal. It's like you're a god or something."

Tony smiled a little and swallowed back something that had risen in his throat. "Hey, if you're not interested, that's cool too. If it's a summer fling you want, that's fine. This life is ridiculous, I know it."

"Huh? No, I didn't mean-- I'm just trying to adjust to being in love with--" Steve paused in almost comedic horror. "Oh god, I meant--I'm sor--"

"Come closer, let me kiss you," Tony said. He didn't want to hear apologies, not for that. Steve leaned closer and then he eventually slid off the edge and into the water. When they broke the kiss, Steve silently chewed his bottom lip and stared at Tony. The red in his cheeks was beginning to fade.

For a minute or two Tony forgot where he was and what they were talking about. When he came back to himself, he said, "So think about things and let me know, okay?" He kissed Steve again because he could and it felt good and he didn't want to stop.

"Tony," Steve whispered after a moment.

"Yeah?" Tony said before capturing his lips again.

Tony felt Steve rubbing up against him, already fully hard.

"Cheap date," Tony whispered. He threaded his fingers through Steve's damp hair and nibbled at the stubble on his chin. "Wanna put it in?"

It took two minutes for Tony to talk Steve into it. "Everyone's asleep" and "I promise not to make any noise when I come" and "Trust me this is what the pool is in here for and it's totally sanitary. Chlorine is ace." Then Steve was behind him, fucking him up against the gritty pool wall, and Tony was dizzy and warm and cool and he absolutely didn't keep his promise about making no noise. He only felt better when Steve covered his mouth and fucked him harder. When they finished, Steve was flushed and abashed like he'd been caught doing something wrong. Tony wrapped his arms around Steve's waist and nibbled at his shoulder.

"I'm gonna be sore now cause of you," he whispered. "I'll be thinking of you on stage and I'll have to touch myself between sets and--"

"Tony," Steve groaned, and Tony knew he was already hard again. "You keep talking and I-- you know it makes me--"

There was a sound like glass shattering and Tony turned to see Clint's tall blond--Cindy--in the kitchen. She looked pale as a sheet and her eyes were wide. "Oh," she managed, and she knelt to clean up the shards of broken glass.

Steve looked incredibly embarrassed, and Tony knew he'd made a mistake talking Steve out of the privacy of the bedroom. "Relax, honey. It's fine."

"What if she saw? We shouldn't have done that." Steve covered his face; his ears were a furious pink.

"It's okay. I'm gonna help her clean up. Just-- go to bed. I'll meet you there, okay?" He patted a hand against Steve's abs and climbed out of the pool. There were parts of him aching that he hadn't realized could ache. He felt completely and very thoroughly fucked and-- yeah-- they'd been caught, but how could Tony possibly regret this? He entered the kitchen and handed Cindy the broom.

"Thank you." She gave him a misty-eyed smile and then her attention was directed over Tony's shoulder. Tony followed her gaze to see Steve grabbing his towel and heading to the bedroom. Tony looked at Cindy again, and she was kneeling over the smaller shards. He could see she'd cut her hand

"There's a first aid kit around here too," Tony said idly. He found it in one of the cabinets and handed her a Band-Aid for the junction between her thumb and forefinger that was covered in blood. She rinsed her hands and Tony could see how unsteady she was. He wondered if maybe he was making her nervous, so he stepped back.

"Thanks," she said again. She seemed to have trouble looking at him, and that was weird considering how forward she'd been before.

"Didn't mean to scare you before. We thought everyone had gone to bed."

"No, it's okay," she said quietly, and he heard her sniffle. Tony almost felt guilty, if only for doing it in such a public space. She emptied the remaining shards into the trash and hurried back to Clint's bedroom, all the while hardly sparing a glance in Tony's direction.

 

*

 

It rained all morning, and as much as everyone hoped, it showed no signs of stopping by the time the concert started. The rain wasn't heavy, only enough to be bothersome. Thousands of people still trekked through the muddy area in front of the stage, wearing ponchos or holding jackets over their heads since they weren't allowed umbrellas.

Steve sat next to Natasha, drumming his fingers on the table. From where they were set up today he could just make out Tony on stage, just a tiny blur of tattoo laden, hip thrusting Tony. So much had changed since the summer first started. He never expected to have this bittersweet feeling about it being nearly over. But Tony had asked him to go to Europe. He'd told Tony that he loved him and Tony hadn't run screaming in the other direction.

"You okay, Steve? You've been really quiet today," said Natasha.

"Yeah. Just thinking."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"Well." He frowned and told Natasha about the European tour. There was nothing he wanted more than to go back to school since right after the funeral, right after Bucky left and he sat at home utterly self loathing. He'd made a goal and started working because he knew he couldn't let his mom down again. That was before Tony came into the picture.

"Hmm." She inserted a new roll of receipt paper into the cash register. "Can't say I'm not biased because I want you to go on tour with us...What do you want?"

Steve shrugged. "I need to go back to school. My mom..." He swallowed and met Natasha's soft gaze. "Everything is happening at once. I can't think."

"I bet she knew how lucky she was to have you as a son," Natasha said. "I might even change my mind about kids if I could be guaranteed a Steve Rogers."

Steve smiled wrly though his cheeks burned. "I'll give you the recipe. And that's in no way a ploy to fool you into having kids."

She shook her head. "Really though, you have time. You'll figure it out."

"Yeah." Steve nodded, words escaping him again. He saw two girls off in the near distance sharing a jacket for cover, buying nachos from a vendor. Three young boys took turns jumping excitedly in a small puddle, trying to make the largest splash. He turned back to Natasha. "I do want to be around for the wedding though. Do you have a date yet?"

Natasha grinned. "Not yet."

They talked more about the wedding until two girls walked up to the booth and asked for t-shirts. While they were waiting for Tasha to return, one of them started talking loudly. "You know the other night, while we were in Denver, I nearly went all the way with Tony Stark," she exclaimed.

"You're kidding?" her friend replied.

"Nope. He asked me who I came to the Hilton with and I told him I was with Clint, then he asked me about my tattoos and suddenly he was all over me. We were making out and he was so turned on I thought we were gonna fuck right there, but then Rhodey walked in and Tony sort of panicked, like he had a wife at home or something," she laughed. "We all know that's never gonna happen. He's not gonna settle down, it's not in his nature. I mean look at Howard."

"God, you're so lucky Cindy. That's crazy. Think you'll fuck him tonight?"

"I don't know. I'm so torn. I really like Clint, but if Tony Stark wants me how could I possibly say no?" She laughed and so did her friend. Natasha returned, handed them their t-shirts and they left.

Steve felt sick as they walked away. His nails dug painfully into the palms of his hands and his jaw hurt from clenching his teeth. He knew he recognized her, the girl who caught them at the pool. 

"Steve?" Natasha placed a hand on his arm, looking concerned.

He muttered, "Be right back" before standing up and leaving the booth, walking out in the direction of the parking lot. He wasn't sure where he was headed and after a few moments he started to get annoyed with himself for not bringing a jacket at least. It wasn't raining anymore but the wind was strong and chilling. Not that it mattered anyway. He could only see every good moment of the summer falling apart in front of him.

 

*

 

They were loading the buses to leave for the night. Tony caught up with Steve and took his hand. "You should ride with us tonight."

Steve eased his hand out of Tony's grasp. He'd had some time to think about it before Natasha found him on the grounds. He decided he would be even sillier to let it get to him. What had he expected? He was the one who started dating a rock star and been so unbelievably naive about it. Bucky would laugh because he couldn't even get Steve to go out on a casual date. " _You_ _'_ _re waiting on a fairy tale,_ _"_ was his usual mantra.

Steve shrugged, not looking up as he loaded a box. "That's okay. We don't have to. I'll just see you ... later."

Tony stared, and Steve wiped his hands on the front of his jeans. "Alright, what did I do, because whatever it is, I'm sorry. I'm an idiot. Don't hate me. I'll show you how sorry I am. As many times as you want--"

"Tony, stop. I said I'll just go with the crew." He finally looked at Tony and it felt like a blow to the chest. So he quickly looked away again, reaching for his own bag.

"Alright, I'll go with you then," Tony said brightly.

Steve groaned. "No. Don't--I'm trying to just..." Steve couldn't think of what he wanted to say. He wanted Tony to know he wasn't going to cling to him. He was free to do what he wished, and maybe when the tour was over they didn't have to see each other again. "We don't have to spend every waking moment together."

There was silence, then Tony said, "Okay, I know, but-- what's wrong, Steve? What happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah--I'm fine." He felt his jaw clench. "Why wouldn't I be fine?"

Tony grabbed onto the sides of Steve's jacket and played with the zipper idly. "Can I have a kiss?"

Steve looked at Tony's chest. He thought of Cindy and the various others Tony might have kissed and thought nothing of. When Tony leaned in and kissed him, Steve pulled away almost as soon as their lips touched. "I should go."

"Steve," Tony said but it sounded quiet and defeated.

His chest felt hollow and he really wanted to comfort Tony and say everything was okay. And like a cruel twist of fate, he looked up and saw Clint and Cindy boarding the bus behind them. Steve swallowed and turned to walk up the steps, not daring to look at Tony again.

 

*


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still he tried to remember a time in his life when he was sure of himself. Now it only seemed to come in fits and starts.

When they reached Pittsburgh, Pepper caught Steve in the common room and asked about his art. He was bewildered for a moment before remembering the conversation about album cover art. He returned with his portfolio and waited anxiously while she scanned it. "Wow," she said almost in a whisper. "This is ... wow. "

Steve looked down at the arm of the suede couch, feeling heat spread from his cheeks outward. "I hope you like them."

Pepper laughed and insisted that the band use the sketches for cover art. When she started to discuss payment, Steve was taken by surprise. He never even considered that someone might offer to pay him for his art.

"Thanks for meeting with me, Steve." Pepper reached out to shake his hand when they'd finished.

"Anytime, Ms. Potts."

"It's Pepper," she reminded him, but she smiled. "Your art really is amazing. You could be doing a lot more with it."

Steve blushed. "Thanks m--Pepper. I would be, but art is surprisingly hard to make a living out of."

She laughed. "Well, I do know someone. He's an investor actually. I bet if I showed him your stuff he'd be willing to put a generous amount behind it." She paused. "As long as you had a focus."

"Oh, no. I can't--I-I'm only a student."

"Well, that's even better. Wade will be thrilled. I think he'd pay your entire school tuition. Yes, he is that kind of rich." Noting the look on Steve's face Pepper added, "You don't have to answer right now of course. Feel free to think it over."

Steve tried to form his facial muscles into anything that wasn't shell-shocked. "Okay."

Suddenly Pepper looked a little more serious. "Tony's lucky to have you. I hope he realizes that."

Steve tensed and looked down, clearing his throat. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Finally he made an unintelligible sound.

Pepper put a hand to her temple and she looked as if she could use a vacation. "To be honest, I didn't even know if the new album was actually going to happen. I was afraid that either Tony would quit, or the rest of the guys would."

Steve looked up, confused. "Why?" He knew the band members didn't always see eye to eye, but he never suspected it had been so serious.

"The third album isn't bad; it's just that it's mediocre, like so many things we've heard before. Not like Tony. I know it sounds harsh, but it didn't seem like he cared anymore..."

"...Oh"

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly, placing a hand on his shoulder. Her cheeks turned a light pinkish color. "I really shouldn't be saying all this." Steve was used to people saying this to him. His quietness seemed to put people at ease about sharing details of their life. Pepper looked at her watch. "And I should get going. I have a meeting!"

Once she'd gone, Steve took a deep breath out and fell back onto the couch, covering his face with his hands. He was getting what he'd wanted, but it didn't feel right. His stomach knotted up and he felt empty.

 

*

 

They had the rest of the day off and Steve had caught sight of an exhibit for World War II fighter jets on a billboard as they were driving in. He thought about asking Tony to go see it with him, but he couldn't bring himself to attempt it. It would have been so easy if this was a couple of days ago.

Bruce and Thor were sitting on the couch in the common area watching the news when he was on his way out. "Hey, man. What's up?" Bruce inclined his head.

"Hey, uh, going to the museum." He tried for a smile, but it was small and not very convincing.

"Oh, may we accompany you? We were just discussing the museum." Thor scooted forward.

Steve couldn't decide if Thor was telling the truth or not, but Bruce gave him the smallest side-glance that told him it was probably the latter. "Uh, okay, yeah.

"Great." Thor smiled and stood up. Bruce put on his sunglasses and they headed out.

It was about a ten-minute walk to the museum. "So, where's Tony?" Thor kept pace next to him with Bruce on his other side.

Steve shrugged, ignoring the ache in his chest. "Maybe he's writing or something. For the new album." Bruce and Thor exchanged a glance and he pretended not to notice. He was starting to wish he had just gone on his own.

"Are you guys fighting or...?" Bruce said tentatively, trailing off like he didn't know what else to say.

"No. We're fine."

Silence fell between them and Steve put his hands in his pockets. A woman in a suit brushed past them, walking fast and turning the corner by a coffee shop. The sun was shining and the weather was mild. There was a park across the street with grass so green it looked picturesque.

Thor said, "You have been acting quite strangely since Saturday's show. Did someone say something to upset you?"

Steve stared at Thor. "Natasha told you."

Thor had the decency to look away before saying, "You must forgive the intrusion. She's only concerned for you. As we all are."

Steve squinted hard at the trees and the pond but the details didn't spring to life in his mind, only fell flat. "Tony can do what he wants."

"What _did_ he do?" Bruce asked with the exasperated tone of someone who knew too well the things that Tony did.

"Nothing, it's stupid."

"Steve," Thor said quietly.

They all stopped as they reached the stairs of the museum. "We're here," Steve said pointlessly.

Thor turned to him. "It is not wise to hold negative feelings inside. Especially in a job such as this."

Steve put his hands in his pockets, knitting his brows together. Bruce sidled out of the way of a passerby and said, "Thor's right. Trust me. Close quarters and unsaid words don't go well together."

"Alright." Steve gave in and told them about the "overheard" conversation

"Rule one, groupies lie," said Bruce when he finished.

"I saw her with Clint." Steve's voice was louder than usual. "She was telling the truth about that."

"Have you yet discussed this with Tony?" Thor offered. "It is often with lack of communication that Jane and I encounter conflict." 

"I think it's gonna close soon." Steve pointed toward the exhibition and went ahead while Thor and Bruce followed behind him. It seemed so obvious now they said it. Why not just ask Tony? _Because you don_ _'_ _t want to know the answer._ Still he tried to remember a time in his life when he was sure of himself the way Thor was. Now it only seemed to come in fits and starts. Just because Steve loved Tony didn't mean Tony felt the same.

 

*

 

Tony finished the song and he practically made himself feverish from the stress that went into composing it. Every time he fell asleep, he'd either have a weird dream about his dad or wake up to the false calmness that came when he imagined Steve asleep in the bed next to him. So he didn't sleep. He just wrote and erased and wrote some more, until every line, every bar, every word, every note was perfect.

"How fast can you learn this?" he asked Clint the afternoon that they arrived in Jersey City.

Clint barely glanced at the composition Tony held in front of him before he responded, "Like yesterday. Come on, Tony, it's me. I never miss a note. Ever."

Tony gave him a watery smile. "Good."

"Damn, you look like hell." Clint lifted his sunglasses and leaned forwards. "He did a number on you. Didn't he?"

"He won't even look at me." Tony ran his hands through his hair. "I don't fucking get it. What the fuck did I do? You have anything stronger than weed? I feel like if I keep thinking about it, I'll lose my fucking mind."

"If I did, I wouldn't give it to you. Not while you look like that."

Tony sighed. "It could be anything, Clint. He's so private. I just wish he'd tell me what's wrong."

"It's okay, man," Clint said awkwardly, patting his shoulder. "You want to go out tonight after the show? Maybe you can meet someone new. I'll even go to the gay bar if you want. Pepper can get it so that it's real discreet, you know?"

"Worst kept secret in Hollywood." Tony smiled to himself. Even though he and Clint butted heads more often than not, he was always supportive in his own way. "No, it's okay. Just-- please learn the song."

 

*

 

"How is it that I feel naked when I'm playing this? It's jarring," Bruce said. He repeated the notes again and Tony shook his head.

"It's not in tune," he said, and stumbled towards Bruce to alter the bass strings. He stumbled because he'd probably had too much to drink, but even drunk he could hear the dissonance, especially as it sounded against the piano where Rhodey played Clint's guitar portion. They were in an empty recording studio they'd only visited once before.

"It's giving me chills actually, and it's not even for me," Rhodey said.

"I wrote it for you, honey bunch, what are you talking about?" Tony smiled at him, well at least he attempted a smile.

"I _wish_ somebody loved me that much." Rhodey started playing the melody again.

"The piano sounds maybe a half step flat so adjusting for that--" Tony said, mostly to himself as he turned the knobs on Bruce's bass

"Steve will either be overwhelmed by this or terrified. If I could write something like this for Natasha, fuck, she'd be weak in the knees," Bruce said.

"It's not for Steve," Tony lied. "It's not for anyone. It's just a fucking song."

"That you poured yourself into. Are you sure you want to play it for the world? If it were about me I don't think I could," Bruce said.

Rhodey looked up from the piano and grinned as the last note faded into silence. "I get chills every damn time I play this. It's fucking brilliant. The girls are going to be crying over you, Tony Stark."

"Crying and wetting their panties," Bruce added.

"Fine, they can dedicate it to their teenaged pimply faced boyfriends, can we move on? And play again from the top?" Tony snapped.

He didn't look, but he knew Rhodey and Bruce were communicating behind his back.

"Hey, hey, let me get in on this." Clint walked in with Cindy. He really seemed to like her. Maybe he'd marry her, same as Bruce and Natasha. And they could live happily ever after, Tony thought bitterly. He shook himself out of it as Clint picked up his guitar and Rhodey went to the drum set. Tony took over the piano and decided to try it with a countermelody.

"Cindy, baby, you're the first audience member for this song," Clint said. "Let us know what you think." Clint sounded like he was high on something, and Tony was a little envious of that. Everything inside of him felt carved open and exposed and really he just wanted to feel numb.

The song went off almost without a hitch. Things needed to be tweaked and Tony needed to find his voice for the words, but other than that it was almost exactly what he wanted.

"Rhodey, can you be just a little softer on the cymbals when you come in?" he said. "I just want it to sound like a whisper or trees rustling or some shit like that."

Rhodey laughed and nodded. "I was wondering when you were gonna end up in perfectionist mode."

Tony waved him off.

"Cindy loves it," Clint said eagerly.

"I do. It's incredible." Her skin was flushed and her eyes were wet. "This is what you were writing the night we made out, isn't it?" Cindy covered her mouth but the damage was done.

"What?" Clint said. He turned to Tony, his face still holding the shadow of a smile.

"It was only a kiss, babe, wait--" Cindy reached for Clint after he wrenched his arm out of her grasp.

"Fuck you, Stark," Clint walked out without a second look and the door slammed shut behind him.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Tony," Cindy said. She raked her fingers through her hair and fresh tears fell down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry for everything. I didn't mean to be the girl who broke up the band." She sniffled loudly

Tony ignored her and followed Clint outside. "Clint!"

He spotted Clint near the bus and when Clint saw him coming he stormed away. "Leave me the fuck alone."

"Please, Clint, stop. It's not what you think--"

Clint whirled around so abruptly Tony nearly ran into him. "No, you know what I think? I'm fucking done. You don't respect a goddamn one of us, and Bruce and Rhodey might be okay with it but I'm done. Take your fucking song and jump off a bridge for all I care."

"Clint, just listen to me. She wasn't right for you. She came on to me. I didn't want--"

It happened so fast that Tony didn't realize he'd been punched until he felt the hot sting of pain spreading through the right side of his face. His right eye swelled with tears and he touched his cheek gingerly as Clint disappeared down the block.

"What the fuck just happened?

Tony startled briefly at the sound of Rhodey's voice. "I fucked up," he said.

Bruce walked past them in the direction Clint was headed.

 

*


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He wants us to turn down the Temptations." Tony stared at Rhodey and Rhodey looked back, his expression grave. Then they both dissolved into laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be wary! Those who are triggered by brief mention or talk of suicide (Howard Stark's).

Steve's days blended together and the nights dragged on pointlessly. Ignoring meaningful looks from Thor wasn't exactly easy either. His persistence gave Steve hope though. It made him believe there was no point in putting things off as long as he did. They were in Jersey, so close to New York, their final destination, bringing back memories of a life that seemed like someone else's. He was exhausted, but he couldn't rest. So he ended up in front of Tony's door instead.

Steve took a deep breath before knocking. This was bound to be awkward, but he was ready for it. He _needed_ to get this over with.

Tony opened the door. The moment Steve saw him he could sense something was wrong. He had an overwhelming desire to hug Tony, kiss him and feel that hot skin pressed hard against his. His mind was still trying to comprehend Tony, in front of him but not entirely his. As if he could only handle all or nothing.

"Hi, you," Tony said, and he pulled the door open wider so Steve could enter.

"Hey." Steve walked in and hovered awkwardly in front of the door. "Sorry, I know it's late."

"It's okay, you can come, if you want to, anytime," Tony said, massaging his temples.

Tony's face caught the light and Steve saw that he had a black eye. "Tony! What happened?" Steve reached automatically to touch the bruise and Tony flinched.

"Nothing, just--" Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "What did I do? Why don't you like me anymore?"

"That's not nothing," Steve said angrily. Tony averted his eyes. Steve frowned. "I'm sorry. I do like you. I like you so much. I..." A familiar rush went straight to his head, filled up his lungs, made it hard to breathe. Suddenly, Steve felt like an idiot. He was hurting Tony over some stupid gossip. He grabbed Tony's hand. "Can we--let's sit down."

"Yeah." Tony held onto his hand and led him to the bed.

Steve sat down next to Tony and felt himself shiver when their thighs touched, but he didn't pull away. "I'm sorry, Tony. I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't usually--I'm usually pretty reasonable."

"It's okay. Don't worry about it. Are we okay?"

"Yeah we're--I didn't want you to think I hated you. I just--wanted to stop feeling like I was falling head first." Steve looked down. "I did a really bad job."

Tony worried his bottom lip. "Is it too fast? We can slow down. I'm okay with that. If you need space, I'm fine with that too. Just talk to me. I'm easy. I'm so easy."

"You're actually impossible," Steve said, but he caught a glimpse of Tony's face and went on. "Okay, it's about--" Steve made a firm decision not to use her name. He even tried not to think about what she looked like, but he saw her self-satisfied smile over and over "--that girl that Clint is ... seeing--"

Tony's eyes widened. He opened his mouth and closed it. Then he tried again. "She told you too," he choked out. "We barely kissed-- it was--Steve please, believe me..."

Steve felt his heart sink. He heard nothing after that. He stared at the wall. "Bruce said groupies lie."

"I don't know what to say." Tony sounded defeated. "I did kiss her, but I swear it was only that because all I could think about was you. I'm sorry I should've told you."

Steve's eyes burned. His insides were writhing trying to escape Tony's words. "'Panicked like you had a wife at home.' That's what she said." The words felt hollow in his throat. He grit his teeth. "It's not--you're not fair. Tell me she lied."

Tony swallowed and looked at the floor. "I can't."

"Tony..." Steve felt a strong pressure building behind his temples. It reminded him of the times he used to get angry enough to successfully get his ass kicked. But instead of determined, he just felt empty. Tony didn't try to say anything else and Steve couldn't even place his expression.

He stood up, feeling hollow. Anybody who said it was better to know the truth even if it hurt was an idiot. He walked toward the door and Tony's silence followed him out.

 

*

 

It was easy to make stupid decisions as Tony Stark. There was no shortage of drugs and parties in New York City and Tony had nearly a week to waste. He was treading dangerous territory when he found himself in the New York apartment where Howard had died. He hadn't visited the place since he was twelve years old and it was like stepping into a time capsule.

His mother had cleaned it out shortly after Howard died, but she died before she decided what to do with it. Everyone talked about how close the Starks' deaths had been. Maria died only a month after Howard. The popular story was that she died of a broken heart. Tony was fourteen then. It was only _cool_ to perpetuate that myth. It was unbearably sad, but at the same time it was like a great rock and roll tragedy with Tony at the center. And Tony had always been theatrical, wearing sunglasses at night and lighting candles and incense in heavily curtained rooms just to enhance the role he was born to play. The truth was, to have all eyes on him made him feel a little less lonely. He couldn't bring himself to sell Howard's loft, so it sat untouched and unused like hallowed ground and that was just fine. It added to the mystery and the legend and gave nothing to the truth that Howard was just a sad, lonely man who pleaded for help through the lyrics of his songs that everyone and no one ever heard.

Tony sat in front of the fireplace looking at old photographs of his family. He was halfway through his second bottle of vodka when he blacked out.

He woke the following morning to Rhodey glaring at him.

"This is my dad's house?" Tony asked, feeling slightly disoriented.

"Do you think I give a fuck whose house it is?" Rhodey asked with a raised eyebrow.

Tony shook his head and suddenly he was nauseous. He clambered to his feet and he could barely stand. He still felt drunk from the previous night.

Barely making it to the toilet, he was sick for the next hour. When his stomach finally settled he walked to the kitchen to get some water.

"Did you enjoy that?" Rhodey was sitting on the sofa in the living room, legs crossed, looking through the photo album.

"What are you doing here?"

"Trying for the last time to stop you from being a goddamned idiot. Happy told me you were here. He tailed you to make sure you got home safe," Rhodey said.

Tony took a big gulp of water and then padded over to the couch and plopped down. Some of the water spilled over and landed on his t-shirt and he frowned. "Was he afraid I'd off myself or something?"

"Is that your plan?"

"No," Tony said.

"Then why are you here?"

Tony shrugged. "I needed to face it sometime. I've been running from it my whole life."

Rhodey looked at Tony, his expression indiscernible. Then he glanced back at the photo album. "Did you get what you were after?"

Tony looked around. Magazines from '69 littered the coffee table. The same vintage guitars that Howard never let Tony touch remained untouched and rather dusty on their stands. A half size bookshelf was packed with records and an old record player sat atop it. Tony stood up and pulled out one of his favorites. He blew on it and coughed.

"What are you doing?" Rhodey said in his favorite tone of perpetual exasperation.

"Listening to a song."

"And you're certain you haven't suffered a psychotic break?"

"Only if you call The Temptations psychotic."

Rhodey laughed dryly and muttered, "I'm on the Stark train to crazy town." But he didn't complain once the sounds filled the apartment.

Tony felt like he'd stepped back in time, like his mom would waltz into the living room at any minute for an impromptu dance. Instead he reached for Rhodey's hand. "Dance with me?"

Rhodey glared at him, then rolled his eyes and stood up. They sang _Just My Imagination_ to each other as if they were giving a live performance the way they did when they were younger. Tony grabbed one of the vintage guitars and pretended to play while Rhodey crooned into a rolled up magazine. _Steve would love this_ , he thought before he could stop himself. Then, to make it hurt less, he said it out loud. And when Rhodey said, "What?" Tony shouted it.

There was a loud knock at the door and Rhodey turned down the stereo. Tony pulled open the door and saw two police officers, an elderly woman, and a tall man with wire-rimmed glasses in a bellhop's uniform.

"Holy shit, Tony Stark!" the bellhop gasped

"Am I under arrest?" Tony asked. He didn't know whether to feel panicked or amused.

"Officers?" Rhodey walked up.

"Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Stark. Millie, here, heard noises coming from this apartment and was startled because it's been vacant for years." The bellhop gestured to the elderly woman who was staring at Tony as if she'd seen a ghost.

"She called us," one of the officers said, "but seeing as it's not a break in, we'll be on our way. If you could keep the music down, please."

"Of course." Rhodey smiled and Tony closed the door.

"He wants us to turn down the Temptations." Tony stared at Rhodey and Rhodey looked back, his expression grave. Then they both dissolved into laughter.

 

*

 

"So what happened between you and Steve?" Rhodey asked. He'd ordered Chinese food and was stuffing his face with orange chicken. Tony was beginning to feel nauseous again so he stuck with a glass of water.

"Cindy happened," Tony said warily. "She told Steve about the kiss. Made it seem like we made out." It still hurt to think of Steve, like ripping stitches out. "Did you think I cheated?"

Rhodey sighed. "For a moment, I did. Then I saw you push her away, and when you flipped out and left I knew you weren't a willing participant. Why do you do that? Why can't you just say no?"

Tony blinked and then took another sip of water before saying, "I think I just now understood some of Bruce's mumbo jumbo. He said it's okay to say no. I thought he meant to drugs, but now I'm pretty sure he meant sex."

Rhodey snorted. "Of course you can say no. You're not any different than the rest of us. Just because everybody wants you doesn't mean they get to have you. You conceited idiot."

Tony smiled. "I guess," he said quietly.

"Anyway," Rhodey continued, "we agreed at the beginning that this band wouldn't be involved in heavy drugs. You remember how you felt when your dad died? If you want to kill yourself, tell me right now. Because if that's your plan, I will quit the band and never look back."

"I don't," Tony said. "But it's so easy to get my hands on anything I want. How are you so responsible?"

Rhodey smirked. "I've got a best friend who can't say no. If I wasn't responsible, we'd both be dead by now."

"So ... are we gonna kiss and make up now? I feel like we should just get this sexual tension between us out in the open." Tony grinned.

Rhodey rolled his eyes. "You're depraved."

"And you love me. Don't deny it."

"No I don't. See how easy it was for me to say no? Now you try it." Rhodey batted his eyelashes. "Tony. I really liked your last album, like can I suck your dick?" he asked in a really awful high-pitched impersonation of Cindy.

"Yep." Tony reached for his belt buckle.

Rhodey laughed and punched him lightly in the arm. "What part of role-play is confusing?"

"Honey bear, if we have to role-play for you to suck dick, I'm not going to say no. Now come on."

"Be serious," Rhodey said, though his eyes were shining. "We need to talk to Clint, because as far I'm concerned The Avengers don't exist without him."

Tony sighed. "He hates me. If I come within five feet of him I'm not entirely sure he won't stab me."

"Guess that's a risk we're gonna have to take."

 

*


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Look." Steve caught Cindy's eye and waited until he seemed to have her full attention. "If you're sorry, then prove it. Talk to Clint. Don't let the band fall apart."

"Do you think the tour will end?"

"Huh?" Steve looked up from Rhodey's copy of _The Shining_ and over to Thor, who was working on a puzzle with Jane.

"The Jersey show was canceled, it appears that Clint might not return to The Avengers, and no one has seen Tony for days," Thor said, looking somber. "These are telltale signs of a band break up."

Steve felt something twist in his stomach. He wondered where Clint might be now. Pepper said she didn't think there would be another album. The notion loomed over him with real possibility. Anger and frustration came back full force at the mention of Tony, the guilty look on his face painted in Steve's brain. The worst part though was that he couldn't stop worrying about Tony, and the idea of The Avengers being no more was like a swift kick in the chest. "Maybe not."

"They won't break up." Jane placed an arm around Thor's shoulder. "They've been through worse. Right?" Nobody answered.

There was a knock at the door and Steve flinched. He stood and opened it. Cindy was standing in the doorway.

Steve's stomach clenched and he looked down the hall and back at her. She looked like she had been crying. "What do _you_ want?" His voice sounded harsh and stiffly unnatural to him.

"I'm so sorry." Her eyes brimmed with tears. "I totally didn't expect any of this to happen. I just-- I was in love with Tony and--" She covered her face and sobbed.

A fierce burn rose in his throat and he swallowed it back down. "And what do you want me to do about it?" He gestured at her with one hand, voice rising of its own accord. "You're exactly his type. Congratulations." He wished he could control the bitterness in his words.

"Who is that?" Jane said, padding over with Thor right behind her.

"Cindy..." Steve turned to look at Jane and felt some of the tension in his muscles dissipate. He looked back at her. "It doesn't matter."

"I kissed him, okay, and he like pushed me away and had a meltdown and left. I felt like-- like such a ditz, and I wasn't gonna tell anyone but then I saw him with you and--" She inhaled a shaky breath. "I can't compete with you. He loves you. And now the band's like broken up and it's all because of me." She cried harder.

Steve stared at her. She wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hand and hiccuped. A voice in the back of his mind encouraged him to tell her to leave, but he fought the urge. "You--why would you--please stop crying." Something was flooding through him, lodging its way deep in his chest.

"I've ruined everything."

"Cindy? You're _the_ Cindy?" said Jane. "What are you even doing--" Steve waved her away.

"Look." Steve caught Cindy's eye and waited until he seemed to have her full attention. "If you're sorry, then prove it. Talk to Clint. Don't let the band fall apart."

She hiccuped and nodded her head. "Okay."

 

*

 

The second Jersey show was canceled before Tony worked up the nerve to go talk to Clint. He hadn't been a willing participant with Cindy, but he hadn't said no either. So maybe Tony deserved a black eye and Clint deserved an explanation. When he got to Clint's hotel room he was still pondering hurrying back to his car and high-tailing it out of there when the door suddenly opened. The moment Clint spotted him, he glared.

"Uh, hi," Tony said.

Clint continued to glare and Tony clapped his hands behind his back and stretched awkwardly. "Can I come in?" he asked.

Clint shrugged and walked inside without a word. Tony barely managed to catch the door before it swung shut.

The hotel suite was rather nice, a beige and white color affair, tons of oversized windows that made it appear as bright as it was outside. Tony stepped inside hesitantly and let the door shut. Clint sat on the couch and turned on the television. He obviously had no intention of making this easy for Tony, but he hadn't stabbed him yet either, so Tony counted this as progress.

"So," Tony said. He walked towards the couch and noticed an Atari plugged in right in front of the television. He was going to comment on the game but decided not to beat around the bush. "I'm sorry about Cindy. I should have never disrespected you like that. I--I don't know what I was thinking."

Clint didn't say anything and _Video Killed the Radio Star_ sounded from the television. Tony stepped closer.

"She told me she kissed you," Clint finally said. "She told me she felt terrible after she did because you obviously didn't want her."

Tony swallowed and offered a brief nod. "She was beautiful, don't get me wrong, but I--I was thinking about someone else."

"Steve," Clint said with the tone of someone speaking a secret the whole world knew.

Tony nodded again. He was awful at this sort of thing. He was used to saying whatever he thought and he wanted to say some pretty bad things about Cindy, but Rhodey had specifically said not to do that. Rhodey knew tact better than Tony knew music, so it only made sense to listen to him. "Well, we both lost the people we love thanks to me. And you punched me in the face. Is that enough to call it even?"

"You're a dick," Clint said.

"Well, I do like dick," Tony replied without thinking.

Clint snorted. "Can't help you there. Anyway, Fury called and threatened me."

"Fury? The head of the record label, Fury? You must really be in trouble."

"Yep. He said if I'm not back with the band in 48-hours he's going to find a new guitarist. A better guitarist."

Tony laughed. "Now I know he's bullshitting. There's no better guitarist."

Clint rubbed his chin, but he was smirking. "I said the same damn thing. And I'm over Cindy. I met this new girl, Kate. She's got brains and wit. And great legs."

"Yeah?" Tony said. "That was fast. Then you don't mind if I take you up on that offer of accompanying me to the gay club so we can both move on?"

"You mean you haven't slept with anyone since Steve left you? It's nearly been two weeks." Clint laughed. "You don't want to go to the gay club."

"Sure I do. I can't be hung up on Steve forever."

"No, you don't." Clint stood up and clapped him on the shoulder. "Stop being stupid, Stark. Let's get back in the fucking studio and record that goddamned love song for your goddamned boyfriend."

 

*

 

Steve looked out of the window as the bus pulled up to Madison Square Garden. What a relief it had been to find out that the New York show would go on with Clint as guitarist.

"Ready for tonight?" Jane said. She sat next to Steve on the couch, strumming random chords on Thor's guitar. Thor sat at the table eating a bowl of apple jacks.

"I think I just might miss setting up merch tables," Steve said.

"Well then you're gonna be pretty sad tonight," said Jane.

"What do you mean?"

"We're gonna watch the show. The band insisted since it's the last one."

Steve looked outside and saw the line of fans already waiting even though the show wouldn't start for three hours. He was willing to bet some of them had been there for a lot longer. The image of Cindy at his door came back to mind, her apologetic eyes when she explained what happened. He wished he had been able to talk to Tony. He wished he could have found him and sorted things out. He promised himself he would when the show was over.

Thor's voice broke into his thoughts. "Judging by how the tour has progressed, I believe it shall be an unforgettable closing."

 

*

 

The arena was packed and buzzing with excitement. It was odd standing near the front of the stage instead of out on the sidelines or watching from behind the curtain. The crowd's energy was much more palpable here. It spread to Steve. It made him anxious.

When the show started, he moved as close to the side of the stage as he could. Jane was right. The show was incredible from this point of view. He felt the bass like a second heartbeat, the guitar screeched defiantly, and the steady drums kept it all together. Tony was as animated as ever, but Steve could see the exhaustion in his eyes. He felt that familiar gaping chest ache, like someone had just performed surgery on him and left him lying on the table. He closed his eyes and leaned against the barricade and tried to imagine how he would feel if this had been weeks ago. But his brain wouldn't allow him to remember that glimpse of time without spoiling it. He made eye contact with Tony, just one small moment--the crowd felt too close and he wanted to get out.

He looked past Natasha to the side where the barricade broke. Just then, Tony announced that they were about to play a new song. The audience let out a loud cheer and Steve looked up, standing still.

As it started, the crowd was eerily quiet, and Steve realized they'd been chanting and singing along before this moment. The song was distinctively different from the last. Steve didn't pretend to understand why in music terms. He could sense it though. It was slow and peaceful and made him think of summer and heat. It reminded him of the songs from the first album that he spent so many hours listening to. Except it was entirely new.

When Tony started to sing, it sounded raw and open and suddenly Steve could feel himself blushing. It was like he was witnessing something private put on display for everyone to judge and he felt oddly protective of it. Tony's words tore through him, his voice so much more clear and concise than Steve remembered it being. It felt like a whisper in his ear, a promise, strong and powerful and impossible to put into words. The music was just as revealing, diminishing and building back into devastating crescendos, demanding to be acknowledged, feeling as much like a whirlwind as it did endless. When Tony's eyes settled on him, Steve could see streaks where the tears stained his cheeks. He could hear his own heart pounding. His throat tightened and he couldn't breathe. It was like everything he'd felt over the course of the summer was being drawn out of him and he was exposed in front of the whole world. In front of Tony.

The song was probably only four minutes long, but it felt much longer. When it did end, the silence around him was deafening and only half a second passed before the stadium roared with screams and applause. He was hyper aware of himself and the way his skin tingled with goose bumps, his mouth was bone dry, his muscles threatened to give out.

Steve slipped through the broken barricade, vaguely aware of Natasha and Thor calling to him. He managed to walk out of the amphitheater and into the hallway on shaky legs.

Once he was outside, he could still feel the song and the beat pulsing inside of him. He slumped against the wall when his legs could no longer support him and he willed himself to breathe. He covered his eyes and realized they were wet and his throat was burning. He pulled his knees towards him and allowed himself to cry.

 

*

 

The show ended to roars of applause louder than any show of the summer. Or maybe Steve was just imagining it because it was the last one and it seemed proper. He wandered toward the buses, wound tighter than he could ever remember being, and his sketchbook was out of pages. He tried to regain some sense of balance, ignoring the part of him that said that was a lost cause since the summer started. The band would sign autographs, take pictures, and then there was the end of tour party. Cool wind whipped across his face and he took a deep breath in.

"Steve?"

He turned around, and oh god. No, he really hadn't been expecting Tony to be standing there. "Tony," he choked. Blood rushed to his head so he sat down on the curb.

"Steve! You okay?" Tony sat next to him.

"Uh huh." Steve nodded. "Don't you have to auto--fans and autographs?"

"Pepper snuck me out. I mean, I can't stay forever and I'm all sweaty and stuff, but-- are you okay? I saw you leave and I-- I'm-- I'm sorry."

"Remember when we talked about my sketch and I told you I couldn't get the moment right?" Steve said quietly. His voice felt distant from him.

"Yeah. I remember everything about that night."

"That was it. That was..."

There was silence, and then Tony said, "I'm sorry I couldn't say it to you." Tony scratched his head. "I'm sorry about Cindy. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking but-- but you-- can I still be with you?"

Steve's head was spinning. Soon Tony would have to go back. Tony would walk away. Tony would _leave_. So he kissed Tony, off balanced head rush and all. "The song was beautiful." Steve cringed at what was lost just by reducing it to words. "I want to hear it again. Can I?"

"Yes, of course. It's yours," Tony whispered, and he hummed softly into Steve's ear.

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only the epilogue left. Just want to take the time to thank everyone who has read this story and given it a chance. Honestly, we wrote it over a year ago and it's been sitting in googledocs because we didn't think we'd find an audience for it. Finally, we decided to post because even if one person reads it and enjoys themselves it's better than being hidden away on googledocs. We had a great time writing it and love it very much and we're happy that we were able to share it with you!


	12. Epilogue

"Guess what I have." Steve grinned, holding up the invitation.

Tony stood in the doorway and reached for it. "It's about fucking time. How long has it been? Like five years now?"

"Only one," Steve said, pulling it back out of reach and sliding by Tony into his foyer. "You are cordially invited to witness the union of Bruce Banner and Natasha Romanov." He sat on the couch, dropping his bag on the floor in front of him.

Tony wasn't too far behind. "Well, I'll give it a year," he said, smiling. He sat down next to Steve and moved closer.

Tony placed a light kiss on Steve's collarbone, working his way up his neck. Steve felt himself shiver when Tony reached his jaw, fingertips tracing over the sensitive skin. He was warm and dazed when Tony finally captured his lips. Steve urged Tony's tongue inside and the kiss progressed from slow and sensual to wet and open dizzyingly fast. Tony snaked a hand up under his shirt.

Steve groaned, pushing gently on Tony's chest. "I have homework."

"Do it later."

"I can't."

Tony pulled a face. "This is what I get because you're a college kid, isn't it?"

Steve glared at him without real heat behind it. "Not a kid."

"Come here," Tony said, and Steve obeyed, straddling his lap. "Show me." He pulled Steve into a crushing kiss, and this was why Steve couldn't get anything done. Tony's hands moved everywhere, pressing into his skin. He gave into the possessive grip and his breath came in sharp gasps.

"Tony..." He wanted to sound firm but his voice had a lightness to it.

"I leave tomorrow, you know."

"I know..." Steve frowned. "I promise I'll come back later, but this is for the Commandos. I have to meet Peggy at the library."

"Yeah, yeah, fine, go." Tony gave in. "Be a responsible student and whatever." Steve smiled and kissed him on the forehead. "But wait," Tony added, suddenly shifting.

Steve rolled over so he could stand up. "What is it?"

"Hang on. Close your eyes or something."

Steve gave Tony a suspicious look, but he squinted his eyes shut. Moments later he felt something thin, flat and square being pressed into his hand. He opened his eyes and realized that it was a record, the new Avengers record with his artwork on the cover.

Tony stood in front of him, biting his lip. "It's done. Thought you might like to see it beforehand."

Steve flipped it over in his hands, viewing the track listings printed over a sketch of the band at sound check. When he looked back up at Tony, he could feel his eyes stinging. "Thank you," he said, wrapping his arms around Tony's neck. He was shaking and Tony held onto him tight, steadying him.

Tony took the record and put it on the player. Then he held his hand out to Steve. "Dance with me?"

Steve smiled and took it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [feygan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Feygan) for the wonderful beta work! All remaining errors are our own.This work was inspired by the movie Almost Famous. There's lots of song references that may or may not be authentic to the 1979 era US. The title for example, comes from The Cure 'Just Like Heaven.' There is some very minor dub-con (issues with consent) later on in the story. If this really is a problem for you I'm planning to post optional spoilers you can peak at before the next chapter goes up. Let me know if there's something I missed that ought to be tagged in this chapter. Characters inspired by the Marvel Cinematic universe and the ones that don't appear come from EMH cartoon/comics. Hope you enjoy!!


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